


Denying the Undeniable

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Bonding, Drama, Explicit Language, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Out of Character, Parody, Romance, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Slash sex, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-01
Updated: 2009-09-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 07:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 66,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10183907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: In the summer before Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts he undergoes a change that will impact the entire wizarding world.  Harry once more finds himself different than everyone else and needs someone to help him deal with it.  Along with the change comes a bond with a Vampire who has been denying his instincts for years.  Can Harry adapt to his new powers and perception of the world?  And can his mate overcome his desire to remain alone, realizing that his decision means life or death for them both?Ignores most of HBP and all of DH, takes plot liberties with other books as well. Most ratings and warnings are for later chapters.





	1. Someone Else

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

* Please refer to story summary for complete list of warnings. This chapter is particularly harmless, mentions abuse, but is not graphic. All characters and recognizable settings, such as Number 4 Privet Drive, for example, belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. There is no money being made off of this, and no copyright infringement is intended. All direct quotes are referenced.* Enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW  

 

Pain. There was a throbbing, building pain coming from the back of his head. It was the first thing the Harry was aware of as he came slowly awake. The next was the feeling of grass beneath his body. Why was he lying on the grass? Had he fallen asleep in the yard again? He opened his eyes and was met with the blurry sight of a dark canopy of leaves hanging high above him. The sight confused him, until he turned and spotted his glasses laying about a foot from his right hand, and beyond that the ladder sat propped up at a rakish angle on the trunk of the tree.

 

Oh no. Harry scrambled up, ignoring the insistent twinge of his lower back and the sharp pain in his ankle. He snatched up his glasses and examined the ladder. Well, at least it hadn’t broken when he fell. He had been working in the Jenisons’ yard, “Earning his keep” as his uncle had termed it, and had just begun to trim the dead branches off of the old oak in the far corner when the branch that the ladder had been resting against gave a frightful crack and he lost his balance. He must have hit his head on a branch on the way down because the next thing he knew was waking up with a headache that was currently tap dancing on his brain. But that had been mid-afternoon, and it was dark now. Very dark. Shit. He was late, very, very late, and in his uncle’s house you were never late, not if you wanted to sleep inside at night. Harry took off, hiking the ladder up onto his shoulder, and sprinting through the park and down the street, he prayed fervently that his uncle and aunt had not yet returned from the dinner party they had attended that evening.

 

But luck was not on his side; luck was never on his side. The lights in number 4 Privet Drive were on; the car was parked resolutely in the center of the driveway. Harry dashed up the drive, leaned the ladder on the side of the house, careful not to mark the paint, and slipped into the backyard. Creeping along the patio he dropped to his knees before the backdoor. He tapped softly, using just the tips of his fingers; half hoping that no one would hear. “Da, it’s back!” Dudley’s voice bellowed as the door was wrenched violently open. Harry shifted and glanced up from the ground to see his uncle’s massive form lumbering down the hallway. His face was contorted in anger, a deep purple hue, the veins bulging at his temples. 

 

Vernon’s bulk took up the whole doorway, successfully blocking Harry’s view of the living room. “You’re three hours later” Vernon hissed, “we’ve told you time and time again, be in by 5 o’clock, make the supper, finish you chores, go to bed; is it really that hard to follow instructions?” “N-no Sir, please, I had an accident, hit my head, I’ve only just come around” Harry whispered softly, focusing on what he could see of his uncle’s knees. “Come around! Don’t lie to me boy, you were asleep, lazing off, you ungrateful…” Vernon’s roar startled Harry, and he flinched back, before resuming his position. “Vernon!” Petunia’s sharp voice called from somewhere in the house, “the neighbors, Vernon, they’ll hear!” “That’s it” Vernon’s voice was low and dangerous “you’ve disobeyed for the last time, go somewhere else, you will never come back into this house! Dudley, get the boy’s trunk, bring it down here” “But Sir” Harry’s plea was cut off by Vernon suddenly throwing open the screen door, catching Harry full in the face. He gasped and rolled into a protective crouch, hands flying to his broken nose. “No, no ‘buts’” Vernon heaved Harry’s trunk and threw it at the boy, catching him on the chest. Hedwig’s cage followed, and Harry just barely managed to catch it before it hit the ground, ignoring his protesting ribs. 

 

Then the door was slammed firmly shut and Harry was left alone, his meager belongings scattered around him. Fearing the return of his uncle, he quickly gathered up his things, and with Hedwig’s cage placed atop his trunk, he started off towards the desolate little park at the end of the street. Everything hurt; his head, ankle, ribs, and his nose. His nose! Harry’s hand once again flew to his face, and he carefully ran his fingers over his face. Bruising and swelling for sure, and his nose was definitely crooked. He sat down on a bench and pulled his cloak from his trunk. Sure, it would get dirty, but he could clean it later, right now he was cold. And tired, and aching, and hungry. 

 

There was no helping it; he couldn’t go back. Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it straight up at the clear night sky. Then he sat and wished for all that he was worth that he wasn’t Harry-Bloody-Potter, that he had a real family, that he didn’t have to deal with all the shit that came with being the goddamn Savior all the time. What was he going to do when the Knight Bus finally got here? How was he going to explain that he was Harry Potter, had just gotten kicked out of his uncle’s house, and needed a ride to Diagon Alley? I wish I were someone else, just this once, he begged with his whole being.

 

He nearly jumped when he felt his nose crunch back into place, and a cool tingling feeling rushed across his face and down his body, but he didn’t have time to figure out what had happened, for right that moment the Knight Bus came roaring down from the sky and screeched to a halt in front of him. Stan Shunpike popped out and leant against the bus. “Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this evening ” he said in a bored monotone. Harry got up and pulled his trunk around to the door of the vehicle. “What’s your name and where to?” grunted Stan as he attempted to heave Harry’s mostly empty trunk up the few steps onto the bus. “Umm, err, you don’t recognise me?” he asked, there was no way that Stan didn’t recognise him this time. He had been lucky enough the first time, four years ago in his third year, when he had used Neville’s name to avoid recognition, but there was no way, after all that had happened in these last few years, that Stan still didn’t know his face.

 

Stan stared at him hard for a moment, face scrunching up in concentration. “Nope” he declared finally, “should I?” “No, well, I mean, I’m Harry Potter, right? So I thought…” Harry’s embarrassed rambling was cut short by Stan’s explosive laughter. “Ha! Harry Potter, sure mate and I’m the Queen of England! Hey, Ern, last time you knew, did the Harry Potter have blonde hair and brown eyes?” Ernie shook his head, chuckling. “Na, me neither, now, what’s your real name” Stan asked, refocusing on Harry. “D-Damon Hellsergiggle” Harry stuttered. Blond hair, brown eyes, what the hell was Stan talking about? “Well, with a name like that I’d want a new one too, maybe try one less well-known next time, eh kid?” “Alright Ern, let’s go” Stan called, ushering a bewildered Harry to an empty bed. “So where do you want to go?” he repeated as the bus gave a sickening lurch forward and shot into the sky. “Diagon Alley, please” croaked Harry, just barely keeping down his panic when he caught sight of himself in a mirror stuck to one of the walls, obviously fastened with magic, as it neither swung nor fell as the bus jerked and shot in every which direct. He sat down heavily on his bed to keep from falling over. Blond hair, not quite like Malfoy’s, thank God for small mercies, but dirty, dark blond, sat upon his head. Deep brown eyes peered out of his face, which had also changed. As Harry looked closely he could see the similarities; his chin was vaguely the same shape, his eyes where still the same as his mother’s, although no longer green. His nose was crooked, just a little, where it had been broken early, but now the blood was gone. And so was his scar. Harry gasped quietly and ran his fingertip over the spot where his lightning bolt brand had always sat. Gone.

 

Harry’s head whirled. He had wished to be someone else, and now he was. ‘What the hell is going on?’ he wondered. “Diagon Alley, your stop Damon” Stan called, dragging his trunk and Hedwig out the door. Harry followed quickly and paid his bill. Then he turned and for a moment stopped. He didn’t know how long this transformation was going to last, so he couldn’t stay at the Leaky Cauldron, for fear of being seen. He wandered down the Alley, garnering odd looks from those who were still out doing their shopping. Harry looked down at himself and realised the image he must present. He was still wearing his cousin’s ridiculously large shirt and shorts, both so old that in places you could count the threads that made them. And although that blood was gone from his face, it was still drying on his shirt and Hogwarts cloak. Harry quickened his pace, careful not to bump into anyone as he rushed past. He ducked into the first Inn he could find: The Gilded Sword. 

 

It was dark inside, but homey. There was a fireplace so large that Harry could have walked right in without even bending, not that he was really that talk, even now. The fire was crackling happily, casting a flickering yellow light on the sturdy wooden tables and the patrons sitting at them, eating, talking and laughing. The floors were wood, and the brick walls were covered in ornately woven tapestries. It was warm and welcoming. The smell of food reminded him that he hadn’t eaten, well, in a long while, and he stomach growled assertively at the sight of the hearty stew that many of the people were enjoying. 

 

Harry set his luggage against the wall near the door and approached the bar. “Hello Dearie” a short, white haired woman called as he approached, “looking for something to eat, or a room?” she asked. Her voice was kind and her smile even kinder. She reminded Harry of someone’s grandmother. “Both” he told her when he had reached the bar. “Alright then, dinner down here, or in your room, and what type of room would ya’like?” her warm smile stretched across her face and she had laughter line at the edges of her eyes. “I’d like a single room please Ma’am, and I’m really very tired, so I’d appreciate eating there, if I may” Harry knew he sounded timid, but he really was tired, and too much had happened today. He wanted nothing more than to get a room, eat some supper, take a pain potion or two, and sleep. On top of it all he was starting to get dizzy, the room blurring at the edges.

 

“Wow, what lovely manners, that’s what’s missing in your generation ya’know Dearie, good manners. Of course you can eat in your room, let me just nip back and grab you some nice hot stew and fresh rolls and I’ll take you on up” she turned and disappeared behind a solid looking wood door labelled ‘Kitchen, Staff only’. Barely a moment later she had returned, baring a tray piled high with a large bowl of stew, three rolls, a bottle of butterbeer, and a delicious looking piece of apple pie. “I hope you don’t mind Dearie, but I guessed that you might be too young for any real alcohol, so I brought you this” she said, expertly balancing the heavy tray on one hand and gesturing with the other to the bottle. “Of course not,” Harry couldn’t help but smile, even as it sent a sharp pain lancing through his head, “I’ve just turned seventeen, though I know I don’t look it, but I wouldn’t want anything stronger right now anyway.” Harry fell silent as Mrs. Natly, as he had learned on the way upstairs, led him into his room.

 

The room was large, dominated by a large bed with lush green velvet hanging, seemingly hundreds of pillows, and a fluffy green comforter. The walls were painted a tasteful cream that complimented the teak furniture and green dressings on the bed. “The bathroom is through here” Mrs. Natly called, heading into an adjoined room. It was a good size and sensibly decorated in creams and soft browns. It had a tub, vanity, toilet and a shelf with an assortment of necessities, such as bath salts, various cleaning potions, and to Harry’s relief, a few small vials of pain potion and some minor healing potions. “If you need any of these go ahead,” Mrs. Natly informed him, “the cost will just be added to your bill at the end of your stay” she headed out into the main room with Harry following. “Well, I’ll just leave you to eat and relax” she said gently, heading towards the door “Oh, right, I need to know your name Dearie, for the ledger downstairs.” She waited; Harry swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He almost wished that he didn’t have to lie to this woman. Then again, he figured, he wouldn’t be lying, because right now, he wasn’t Harry Potter. “Damon Hellsergiggle” he said with a sigh of pretend annoyance with the name. Mrs. Natly barely batted an eye, “Very good Dearie, now get some sleep, you look about ready to pass out” she added in a very maternal tone.

 

With that she was gone and the door shut behind her. Harry sighed, stretched then winced at the spikes of pain sprouting from his abused ribs. He wandered into his bathroom and grabbed two vials, one healing and one pain potion. He broke the seals and gulped them down, wincing at the bitter tastes. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Blond hair, brown eyes, no scar; he barely recognized himself. Heck, in this body, his hair would even lay flat. Harry smiled and wandered back into the main room. Still smiling he sat down at the table and began to eat the wonderful smelling stew. This was going to be interesting, to say the least. 

 

1\. Taken from J.K. Rowling’s Prisoner of Azkaban. No copyright infringement intended  
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* well that's the first chapter, please let me know what you think! I'm going to try to update once a week, school and work permitting ... Happy reviewing!


	2. Gone

  
Author's notes: Severus comes to realise that perhaps his plan was not the best choice.  


* * *

* Chapter two, like chapter one, is harmless, the ratings will go up as the story continues, please be patient. Disclaimer: Not mine, never said they were, no money being made on this story, all the known stuff belongs to JK Rowling. *

 

Severus Snape was confused, not that he looked it. No, on the surface he looked annoyed, and rather menacing, Potions Master’s scowl set firmly in place. But underneath he was mystified. He had come to Diagon Alley to purchase a few much needed potions ingredients. After perusing the Apothecary and collecting the required supplies, he had come across some very dissatisfactory Irish toad’s saliva; really was it so hard to comprehend that if it was not stored at the correct temperature then the saliva would turn this putrid yellow and be rendered useless? Not that he would have cared on any other day, but today it so happened that the saliva of the Irish toad was the last item on his list, and there was no way in all of the wizarding world that he was going to pay twelve galleons for this sludge. 

 

So he had taken a vial of the merchandise in question and had swept up to the front counter, with the accustomed swirl of his robes. The boy at the counter had been most apologetic, he didn’t know why that particular product was not stored properly, he was merely there to stock shelves and man the desk; he didn’t know anything about the subtle art of potion brewing. The boy had just begun to move around the barrier to go into the back room in search of a more acceptable sample, when he had suddenly frozen in place. 

 

And that was where they stood now, the boy standing limply, gazing at Severus, blathering on in fragmented sentences of nonsense, and Severus glaring at him, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. “Sir … I, I mean, you … understand … eyes, please Sir” the boy mumbled, his dark fringe of hair falling forward into pale green eyes as he swayed where he stood. The brief break in eye contact seemed to help and for a moment the boy struggled towards clarity. “I will go … back room … get more … eyes” he stammered. And suddenly Severus knew what had happened and quickly shifted his obsidian gaze to the front window of the little shop. The boy trembled, shook his head as though to clear it, and moved shakily to the storeroom at the back of the shop.

 

How had this happened? Why now? Severus’ mind whirled, his thoughts racing about in his mind. He hadn’t lost control of his thrall for nearly three hundred years, since he was no more than a fledgling. It was unacceptable to force his power on a mortal, a mere boy, what was going on? As he waited for the undoubtedly now confused and embarrassed boy to return, he reached back into his mind, locating the link between him and his mate and examined the connection. With a start he realised that the link was blurry, his mate reading more as ‘unwell’, and ‘not there’ than the customary ‘fine’ and ‘present’. His vampire instincts shifted uneasily. He could feel his fangs begin to lengthen, his pupils dilating rapidly.

 

With a wrench he pushed back these normal reactions to the insinuation that his mate might be in danger, and acknowledged the newly returned shop boy, ignoring the stuttered apologies and paid for the fresh vial of saliva, along with the other ingredients that he had gathered. Without so much as even a look back he took his bag and swept from the store, hurrying down the lane. After a series of brisk steps he apparated to the boundary at Hogwarts and continued at his rapid pace until he had safely reached his rooms in the dungeon. The cool air and dark, nearly damp, feel did little to calm the turmoil that he was experiencing. Dropping his things on a side table he ran the last few paces into his bedroom, ripping open his personal potions cupboard and yanking the cork from one small bottle he downed the vinegary purple concoction inside.

 

Severus sat heavily on his bed, fighting to control the basic urges that commanded him to go, find his mate, gather him in his arms and protect him from all harm. It became easier as the repressing effect of the potion, which he himself had formulated, slowly masked his instincts, slowing his breathing, drawing back his exposed fangs. So long, so long had he kept his nature locked away, letting the vampire out only to feed when the thirst became a fire raging at the back of his throat. Yet he had nearly lost control today, there in the Apothecary, nearly let the vampire take over. He shuddered to think of the sight he would have made; fangs bared, talons out, skin pale, eyes black, running down the middle of Diagon Alley, trying to find an unknown mate and protect him from unknown foes. No, that could not happen. Severus stood, and reached into his cupboard again, this time taking out a vial of sleeping potion. It wouldn’t make him sleep, he hadn’t slept in over three hundred years, not since he had be turned, but it would put him in a restful state, much like the state achieved through intense meditation. 

 

Swallowing the potion in one gulp, he loosened a few on the many buttons at his color and removed his outer robe, which he wore despite the extreme heat of the mid August sun. Lying down on the bed, he felt the potion taking effect, pulling him into a deep chasm of darkness.

(Severus' dream/memory)

The July sun was brutal, bearing down on all that dared to venture outside with a vengeance. But Severus remained unbothered and unaware. He was cool, calm and mostly collected. He had to be, he was brewing a very particular potion. It wasn’t just any potion, it was Ab Intra Incendia, and he was brewing for the Dark Lord. No mistake could be made; this potion was one of the most lethal, used as a form of torture; when consumed it turned the victim’s inner organs to fire, but sustained life for hours.

 

Just as he was adding the chopped beetles’ eyes, he felt it. His mate had been born! He carefully schooled his shaking hand into obedience, placing the dish of eyes on the workbench. He trembled, shivered and shook, sweat dotting his brow. He must go to his mate, to see him, claim him (in only the verbal sense, of course, the formal ‘claiming’ would wait until his mate was grown and strong and ready). At the very least he needed to go to him, follow the link that was pulling him while the connection was strong enough for him to do so.

 

But no. With a sensation much like ripping off one’s fingernails one by one, Severus resolutely pushed the call to the back of his mind, surrounding it with barriers, determinedly ignoring the agony. He would not deny his mate; it would kill them both, but he would not drag him into the world of danger that he (Severus) had built for himself. So he finished the potion, bottling the product and leaving it in the enchanted chest that would later be delivered to his Lord. That done, he dragged himself back to his rooms, dropped to the floor in the center of his sitting room and wished for his mate, or death, in equal measures.

(Dream/memory ends)

Severus blinked back to awareness, his memory/dream weighing heavily on his mind. He had kept the call barricaded in his mind for so long that he could barely tell it was there anymore, telling himself every year that next year he would find his mate, next year would be the year that he would make the bond known. The normally stoic man lifted a hand at covered his eyes, surprised to find his hand wet when he pulled away. ‘Tears’ he thought in wonderment, ‘I am crying, I haven’t cried in over seventeen years.’ What was he going to do? He couldn’t go to his mate, the link was withered, barely pulsing with the other’s presence, he would not be able to pick him from a crowd of people, even if they were in the same room together.

 

Severus sighed, the sound more broken than he would ever admit. Albus, right, he would have to tell Albus, perhaps the old coot would have an idea, or maybe he would offer tea and lemon drops and a sympathetic smile. Buttoning his collar and grabbing his cloak, Severus started out of his room and out of the dungeon, headed for the Headmaster’s office, wishing in equal parts for his mate, or for death. 

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* there's chapter two, I'm sorry that it's so short, but it would have been very long had I not stooped there. Hope you enjoyed it, please review. Thanks to sthelen, for pointing out the inconsistency with Harry's eyes, I did go back and fix that.  
Ab Intra Incendia is latin, basically means "fire from inside"  
Thanks for reading


	3. Without You

  
Author's notes: Harry is finding out that something is wrong, though he does not know what. Severus is faced with the choice of finding his mate, or continuing to wait... Warning for mention of self-harm, non-graphic. Refer to chapter one for full disclaimer.  


* * *

Harry groaned and turned his head away from the light pouring in the big window that he head neglected to close the night before. Opening his eyes he reached across the bed to the side table and picked up his glasses. Putting them on he sat up, noticing that it was three o’clock in the afternoon; he had slept for nearly sixteen hours straight. Lazily he stretched he arms above his head, and gasped, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain in his ribs and wrist. Confused he got up and walked into the bathroom attached to his room, favouring his very sore ankle, and checked to see that he had, in fact, taken a healing potion last night. Yes, there was the empty vial, seal broken and cork lying on the counter. ‘Weird’ he though, turning to face the mirror, perhaps he was just sore due to sleeping in the same position for over half a day. 

 

After thoroughly brushing his teeth he decided that a shower was what he needed to rid himself of all the soreness. Once he had turned the water on, allowing it to heat before getting in, he began to undress, stopping only when he had taken everything off and caught sight of himself in the mirror. His chest was one big angry-looking bruise. The deep purple-blue hue was concentrated on a spot on his left side, where his trunk had hit him the hardest. Harry frowned, moving closer to his reflection. Something was wrong; he snatched his glasses up from where he had placed them on the vanity.

 

“No!” his shout was hoarse, surprising even himself at the sudden sound. ‘No, no, please not this’ he thought desperately. Why weren’t his glamours working? He hadn’t taken them off, he never, ever did. Except when he went back to the Dursley’s during the summer; his uncle liked to see his marks. Maybe, maybe he hadn’t put them back up last night, maybe that was it. Harry concentrated, pulling his magic in, trying to erect the shields that hid the scars littering his body. But to no avail. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t use a glamour in this form. He raised an unsteady hand and traced one of the slash marks on his stomach, fingered the slivery raised skin on his shoulder, a scar from a burn branding him as MINE, and as a FREAK. 

 

Angry tears fell unnoticed from his cheeks; he hadn’t looked at these scars in so long, hadn’t had to face the damage that the men had done. And that he had done himself. His gaze fell to his left forearm, crisscrossed with thin, perfectly spaced lines. No, this was not something that he could deal with, not now, not today. Harry turned from the mirror, forgetting about the odd injuries that should have healed last night, and after once again removing his glasses, he stepped into the calming hot water of the shower. Something was wrong, something in him felt broken, and it wasn’t just his ribs.

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Severus stopped midstride. His ribs hurt, his head was pounding and his ankle and wrist were throbbing. But why? He had been perfectly fine not even a full two seconds ago. He rolled up his sleeve and stared down at the yellowish purple bruise spreading along his left wrist in confusion. The bruise seemed to be healing but when he rotated his wrist he could hear, and feel, the ‘tick’ of an improperly healed bone snapping into place. Then he felt it. Misery, pure misery, was flowing through the link. Oh, it was perfect. Not that his mate was suffering, but that Severus was now suffering with him. For a moment he stood and savoured the connection, ignoring that he was standing in the middle of the corridor, staring blankly at the gargoyle that guards the Headmaster’s office. Yes, this is how it’s supposed to be, one mate suffers, and the other shares the pain. 

 

Wait! Severus’ head flew up, his fangs out instantly, his eyes black. His mate was in pain, because of physical injuries. Someone was physically harming his mate. The urge to run and protect had Severus dashing up the Headmaster’s steps, spitting the password out as he leapt through the doorway. He swept into the office, looking more like a dark avenger than an angry vampire. He would realise later how lucky he had been that Albus had closed the shades to block out some of the sun’s heat, lest he would have been burned quite terribly in his vampire form.

 

“Severus, my boy, what has happened?” Albus’ voice was concerned and he was a bit more than surprised at seeing his Potions Master storm unannounced into his office in his vampire form. “Mate, mate, trouble, must save, mine” Severus could do little more than growl a few disjointed words to his employer, even as he searched his robes for the bottle of suppressant that he had brought ‘just in case’. “Sit down, my boy, and just tell me what has happened” Albus gestured calmingly to a comfortable seat in front of his desk. Severus prowled over and sat, but just at the edge of the seat, still ready to spring into action. He located the tiny bottle and swallowed the suppressant, but only half; he didn’t want the connection to disappear, it felt too right to have it open and his mate’s feelings thrumming through his veins. 

 

Albus sat quietly at his desk, watching as Severus collected himself and returned to his normal appearance. “Are you alright?” he asked gently, when all obvious vampiric features had receded. “Yes, Albus. I am sorry about that, my instincts seem to be getting the better of me lately” Severus replied, staring intently at his hands. “I was out buying potions ingredients earlier, and realised that I had unleashed my thrall unknowingly. And then just now I felt the effects of my mate’s injuries. I am unsure of what to do Albus. The connection is open, but so faint that I can no longer use it to find him.” He bowed his head again, ashamed as tears once again made tracks down his face.

 

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Harry held back a howl of pain. It felt as though something inside him was being squished, forced back, and hacked at. He leaned against the wall of the hallway for support, catching his breath and attempting to steady himself. When the feeling abated slightly he pushed off of the wall and patiently waited for his surroundings to stop spinning and closed his eyes. When he had gotten out of the shower this morning, err, afternoon, that is, he had been feeling better. He had put on jeans and a t-shirt and was preparing to go downstairs and find some breakfast, or lunch, when rather suddenly he felt ill. He was shivering as chills wracked his body, the pain of his injuries flared, and his head pounded, causing his stomach to heave and resulting in a few unhappy moments of dry heaving. He had sat carefully down on the floor and waited for the storm to calm, and when the worst was over he threw on a warm pullover and stepped hesitantly out his door, determined to procure a stronger healing potion for Mrs. Natly; perhaps he was getting sick. 

 

But halfway down the hallway it had happened again, this time accompanied by the terrible ripping feeling. As soon as he was able he resumed his trek down the stairs. Luckily the Inn was mostly empty, just a few individuals reading a newspaper or playing wizard’s chess in the corner. He stumbled across the room and leant heavily on the bar. “Oh Dearie, you look a mess!” gasped Mrs. Natly, taking in his shaking form, the dark smudges beneath his eyes and the curious scarring on his neck. “I know” Harry replied weakly. “I was just wondering if you have any stronger healing potions about that I could purchase?” the few sentences left him out of breath and grasping his ribs as his lungs heaved. “No, I’m sorry Dear, but we don’t. You really must see a Healer though, you seem quite ill” Mrs Natly started to move around the bar, ready to navigate the weak young man before her back to his room and bed. “No, no, I’m fine really” said Harry, with as much conviction as he could manage. “Well, let me just see you back to bed and I’ll send me husband out to pick up some healing draughts, yeah?” she said kindly, taking his arm and leading him towards the stairs. Harry’s world exploded in pain when she grasped his barely healed wrist, the break courtesy of one of his uncle’s rages, and his vision blurred, fading to black as he hit the floor. “John!” shrieked Mrs. Natly “Fire call Poppy! And Jack, help me get poor Damon back to his room” she said, addressing her husband and son in turn.

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Albus sat deliberating. It was essential that Severus find his mate, that was clear even here in the dark, the effect that the separation was play havoc with the vampire. But the timing was less than ideal. It takes three weeks for a vampire bond to settle after consummation. The school year would begin in two. He couldn’t have an over protective, aggressive, blood drinking vampire mingling with the general student body. No, that was not the solution. “Look up Severus” he said firmly. “This is your choice, however you choose to deal with it, but I would suggest waiting. Take the suppressant, continue on as is normal. It may be that your mate just took a nasty fall. Wait until the Christmas Holidays then go and find him, when you have the time to spend on the bond” there was no question in Severus’ mind that was what Albus fully expected him to do, though he could not suppress a snarl when Albus insinuated that his mate may have “just” taken a “nasty fall”. “Yes Headmaster, that does seem logical, I believe I will endeavour to do that” he said as he smoothly stood and moved towards the door. “Good day Albus” he said, stepping onto the stairs and descending, missing the speculative look that Albus was giving him. No, he would not wait until Christmas, he could not wait. His mate needed him now! He had done enough waiting. And with that resolution he strode briskly to the apparation point on the grounds, intending to return to Diagon Alley, as that was where he first had sensed his mate’s presence. 

 

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“I don’t know what the boy has told you Alice, but he is very unwell. I would move him to the Infirmary if it was safe, but any disturbance at all could be detrimental” Poppy Pomphrey told Mrs. Natly quietly, as they stood watching the weak rise and fall of Harry’s chest. “Oh, you know it’s fine Poppy, I’ll be here to take care of him, you know as well as I do that business is slow at the moment anyway” Mrs. Natly replied, brushing off the other woman’s concerns. “What has he told you?” inquired the Healer. “Well, just that his name is Damon Hellsergiggle and that he’s just turned seventeen not too long ago. Oh, and he’s booked his room until the start of September, so I’d guess he’s a student, probably at your school; the crest was on his cloak the other day” informed the shorter woman. “Damon Hellsergiggle?” Poppy’s eyebrow arched inquisitively, she had taken care of Harry Potter long enough to know his magical signature anywhere. “What did you mean ‘detrimental’?” Mrs. Natly interrupted Poppy’s musing. “The boy is in a very fragile state, Alice, I fear that if he does not improve drastically he will not make it.”

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* Yes, my very first real cliff-hanger. Oh my, what fun :) So that’s it for now, chapter three is done. It’s likely to be my last post until next weekend, sorry, school is lethal sometimes. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, happy reviewing! *


	4. Abeo Venefici

  
Author's notes: Severus learns something about his mate...  


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Disclaimer: please refer to chapter one ...

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Severus Snape did not run; running was undignified and usually a pointless expenditure of energy. It went without saying that Hogwart’s cool, collected Potions Mater did not _run_ anywhere when he was in the public eye. No, today, Severus was _loping_ up and down Diagon Alley. Loping was an entirely acceptable alternative to running; it was graceful and smooth and, when done properly, a much more efficient method than running. So he _loped_ , his strides even and consistent as he moved into and out of shops, weaving through the crowds of Sunday evening shoppers. The notice-me-not charm he had cast on himself so strong that the few individuals that caught a glance of him as he swept by found themselves inexplicably turning abruptly and hurrying off in the opposite direction.

 

He had been searching for hours now, had checked in every store, around every corner, down every back-alley. And although he was frustrated, irritated at the absence of even the faintest trail to lead him to his mate, he was not tired. His breathing remained even and slow, as he did not need to breath; his still heart was not rushing to bring oxygen to his tireless muscles. He longed to let his vampire out, his instincts were screaming at him to move with the speed unique to his race, to let out his fangs and claws and rip through all those who dared to step into his path. But he didn’t. He pushed down his more basic impulses, pressing them stubbornly to the back of his mind. The vial of suppressant that he drank infallibly every hour on the hour did much to assist his self-enforced control. 

 

When the sun finally dropped below the horizon and the pastel colours of twilight stretched across the sky Severus sat down on an empty wooden bench in front of a homey looking Inn. His rather potent concealment charm kept the many other loiterers from claiming the open seats that the rest of his bench presented; in fact, it prevented them from even wandering too close, giving Severus a wide berth as they meandered by. This suited Severus perfectly. He sat on the bench, his posture rigid, hands on his knees, back flawlessly straight, and for the second time in one day, he fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. He had searched for hours, looking for any trace: a scent, a glimpse, even a tingle from the bond would have served him well, but inevitably found nothing. His mate was either no longer here, or had not even been in the Alley in the first place. Severus scoffed at his folly, why had he dared to hope that he would find something today? After all these years of ignoring the call, what did he expect, that his mate would miraculously appear and welcome him with open arms? The inactivity of the link in his mind did little to improve his mood. He had no choice, without the suppressant he would not be able to control the vampire enough to be among so many people, yet because of the potion the link was clouded, the sensation deadened and numb.

 

The smells drifting from the open door of the Inn, The Gilded Sword, he noticed, reminded him that he had neither eaten (normal food) nor satisfied his thirst for much too long a period of time. ‘The thirst will have to wait’ he thought as he rose and entered the Inn. _‘Preferably until I find my mate’_ his vampire added petulantly. The inside of the establishment was cozy and warn. Severus stepped through the maze of tables and found an empty table for two pushed back against the wall in the far corner. The heat of the fire was pleasant, especially since he was always cold. He hadn’t been truly _warm_ in the last three hundred years. As he considered the specials written on a chalkboard hung over the bar he discretely removed the notice-me-not; it wouldn’t do to drive people out of the room simply because he had decided to dine here.

 

“What can I get for you today Professor?” asked a kind looking older woman from the side of his table. 

 

“I am not yet sure, I am torn between the Shepherd’s pie and the ‘Sunday Roast’, which would you suggest?” Severus inquired, turning his gaze to the woman. She was short and wiry, her white hair, short and curly, was slightly disheveled, and her eyes moved constantly, glancing about the room, cataloguing what needed to be done next. 

 

“Well, the roast, if I may say so myself, is quite lovely today, and the roasted potatoes and wonderful and fresh” she replied, smiling kindly, before turning her head for a momentary look at the stairs, yet again. At Severus’ quirked eyebrow she continued, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Alice Natly, my husband and I run this place” she gestured fondly around the room, “I cook the meals mostly myself. Personally, I’d take the roast; it’s particularly tender this time.” 

 

“Then I will have the Sunday roast please, with a glass of red wine and some water as well” Severus smiled, just an upward twitch of the corners of his mouth, but he couldn’t help it, this woman seemed so grandmotherly. 

 

“Of course, that will be right out for you” Alice replied, writing down his order and whisking away to fill the water goblets of a table on the other side of the room. Severus sighed and sat back in his seat. The suppressant was wearing off and he would have to take another vial in a few minutes. But until then he closed his eyes and examined the connection, looking for any additional signs of damage or pain coming from his mate.

 

“Severus! You’re here, Alice was right, I’m so glad.” Severus’ eyes flew open and he started, hearing Poppy Pomphrey’s voice from behind him. “Do you have a moment? Would you come upstairs, I need your advice on something” she asked insistently, coming close to him and turning hopeful eyes to his black ones.

 

“Yes of course” he murmured softly, raising and following her up the staircase. The link in his mind gave a sharp twinge, reminding him that he had not yet taken his potion. As he followed Poppy down a hallway and around a corner he pulled a vial from one of his many pockets and swallowed the bitter liquid with a grimace. He really did have to find a way to make the stuff taste better. _‘Well, if I had just claimed my mate all those years ago I wouldn’t have to’_ his vampire reasserted itself in his mind, his instincts shifting restlessly.

 

A feeling of unease prickled over his skin when Poppy stopped outside a heavily warded door. The feeling increased as he examined the wards; these were not normal locking or silencing wards. These were wards used when a person could not control their own magic, or when someone was critically ill and even the slightest spell would be a danger.

 

He turned to Poppy, eyebrows raised in a silent question.   
“I have a patient” she explained, leaning against the wall beside the door. “He’s seventeen and has recently come into his creature heritage. I think that his mate has rejected him because his magic is steadily undoing all of the healing that he has had done over his life. I don’t know what to do; I’ve never seen anything like this before.” The Healer was definitely scared, her eyes wide and sad. Severus frowned. Poppy was well known for her professional detachment, for her to be so visibly shaken meant that she must care deeply about the boy in question.

 

“Alright, let me see him and I will try to find a potion that will ease his symptoms” Severus said, trying to reassure his colleague with his confident tone. Inside he was uncertain and puzzled. He too had never heard of such an occurrence. Poppy nodded and straightened, moving forward and taking down the wards then stepped back and ushered Severus in before her. Severus reached for the doorknob and slipped into the room with a building sense of dread. Something was terribly wrong in that room.

 

_‘Mate! Mine mate, mine, mine! Claim, save … hurt, mate hurt…protect…mine mate’_ Severus’ mind exploded with the sound of his vampire’s ecstatic screams. The boy in the bed, he could only see the top of his dirty blond head peeking out from under to heavy covers, this boy was his mate. Severus slumped heavily against the wall, ignoring Poppy’s whispered questions of concern. He was immensely glad that he had taken the suppressant before entering the room, otherwise he would have burst into full vampire form and claimed what was _his_ with no thought to the boy’s injuries, or to the presence of the other two people in the room.

 

Two people. He turned his dark gaze on the other person in the room, in his mate’s room; she had been alone with his mate. It was Alice. She wouldn’t hurt his mate. He would kill her if she did, but she hadn’t. Severus struggled through the confused fog in his mind. 

 

“Professor?” Poppy’s voice floated to his ears as though from a great distance. “Professor Snape, what is the matter?”  
Snape swallowed and then swallowed again, shaking his head. “My mate, Poppy, the boy is my mate. I am having … trouble … resisting the pull” he said, even as his wildly dilating eyes turned back to the bed and he felt his hand reaching out, urging him to step closer. 

 

“Oh, oh my, well then I guess that solves that problem” a flustered Alice stammered, “Come then Poppy, we should probably let the Professor meet his … er … mate … Perhaps it would be best if you gave him the potions he needs to take tonight?” Alice’s last remark had been directed to Severus and he nodded dumbly, not really listening to her, as most of his attention was directed at not jumping onto the bed and claiming what was rightfully his.

 

“Severus, may I see you in the hall for a moment? I won’t keep you long” Poppy asked softly when Alice had left the room. 

 

“No” spat the dark haired man. “I will not leave” he said resolutely, his canine teeth lengthening and sharpening ever so slightly. _Mate, mate, mate!_

 

“In the washroom, just through here then” Madam Pomphrey bravely took her life in her own hands by taking Severus’ arm and forcefully propelling him into the washroom. Leaving the door open a few inches to satisfy the vampire’s need to keep his mate in sight she turned and glared up into the angry face that confronted her. “The boy is seventeen” she snapped, throwing up her hand to stave off any interruption. “He is an adult in our world, so if you _claim him_ that is entirely your business.” _‘It certainly is’_ hissed the vampire in his mind, but Snape refrained from speaking the comment aloud. “He is broken and dying” Poppy forged on, “any activity beyond the gentlest of contact will have disastrous results. And this is not a wizard that our world can afford to loose” she concluded, frowning into Severus’ dark eyes. She could see the barely contained vampire lurking in the swirling black depths and wondered, not for the first time, whether it was truly a good idea to leave the two alone.

 

“I will not hurt him, ever” Snape growled low in his throat at the insinuation that he might do something harmful to the other half of his soul, who was lying there on the bed. Then Poppy’s last comment made it through the haze of obsession clouding Severus’ brain. “Wait what do you mean ‘our world can’t afford to loose him’?” The Healer sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and leaned back on the vanity.

 

“What do you know about the Abeo Venefici?” she asked tiredly.

 

The question caught him off guard and it took Severus a moment to search the many dusty recesses of his mind to find the information that he needed. “The Abeo Venefici are a rare form of being, who can at will, manipulate magic unlike any other being that has ever existed. They are very rare though, I think that there is only one living right now.” With his concentration turned to his colleague’s unusual question, Severus’ appearance became more human; his fangs withdrew and his eyes lost the depth and blackness that signified the vampire’s presence. “Are you saying that my mate is an Abeo Veneficus?” he asked in wonderment. There was absolutely no way that he could be bonded to something so pure, to a being so fundamentally good.

 

“Apparently there are two living examples of the race at the moment because yes, the boy is one. But that is not my point. The boy has altered his appearance to protect himself from something or someone. I am not sure if you will take kindly to his identity.” She regarded Severus worriedly, as though expecting him to retaliate in anger. Severus frowned deeply. He could feel that something was out of place with the very still form on the bed, but had assumed that it had to do with the boy’s many injuries. Turning to look closely at what little of the blond head he could see, he closed his eyes and concentrated with all of his considerable mental power on the being in front of him. He could feel the damage on the body, could tell that the boy was barely hanging onto consciousness, and then he found it. The boy’s magical signature was familiar; Severus had met this boy before. 

 

Then it came to him. Potter. Potter was lying, hardly breathing on the bed; Potter was his mate. Poppy recognized the look of comprehension on his face and stepped forward to lend her support. 

 

“I … we … We will deal with this later” said Snape, brushing off her hand and stepping back into the room. “I will not claim him, but the longer we are apart, the worse his condition will become.” He didn’t really know that, but prayed that the Healer would accept his dismissal. Luckily she did, and giving him one last searching look, she nodded her consent and slipped from the room. “Call if you have need” she said, closing the door softly behind him.

 

Severus stood in the center of the bedroom, and after charming the window blinds securely shut, he let his vampire out, completely. The scent was marvelous. He had never smelt anything so delectable. Like love and lust, the perfect food with the perfect wine, mixed in with the smell of fresh air and a cool wind. Mate. Severus stepped forward, hardly making a sound. He slipped out of his outer robe and shoes, leaving his black t-shirt and trousers on, and sat carefully on the bed. 

 

_Mate’s_ breath, no, _Harry’s_ breath was shallow and rough, coming more in gasps than anything. Severus pressed himself closer, pulling the thick blanket down to reveal the sleeping face beneath. The face wasn’t Potter… no, Harry’s. But Severus could see the similarities, and running his fingertip over the now scar-free forehead, he secretly decided that he liked Harry’s normal features much better. The heat of the boy’s skin frightened him. He must have been running a temperature of at least 108 degrees Celsius. Severus frowned and quickly got up and slipped beneath the heavy duvet. He wrapped his arms securely around the burning form, loosing himself in the smell and the feel of his mate. It was so entirely right.

 

Mindful of Harry’s many injuries, he pulled the boy closer, laying him over his chest, and nuzzled the top of the unruly hair. The wonderful warmth of _his mate_ began to seep into his skin and Severus realized with a start that he was _warm_ for the first time since he had been turned! He listened as Harry's breathing eased, settling into a gentle rythm and he moved his hand to tenderly rub over the back of the boy's neck, carding absently through the soft hair he found there. He could feel the steady da dum, da dum, of the boy’s heartbeat and it relaxed him. Between the warmth and the content feeling caused by his mate's proximity, after just a few moments Severus was lulled into a state as close to sleep as a vampire could get.

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* So here is chapter four, I hope that you liked it. Just a note, the “Abeo Venefici” (pronounced “ab–E-oh Ven-ay-fee-key”) are a race of creatures of my creation. The name comes from the Latin words Abeo, meaning “change”, and Veneficus, meaning “magic”. So anyways, please drop me a review :) And if anyone wants to act as beta for this story for me, I’d be eternally grateful, just let me know!  
Thanks for reading, and I promise, the rating goes up next chapter, which should be up this weekend!   
** Just a note ... I've had a few reviews (thank you so very much!) about this chapter and everyone seems pretty concerned about Harry's temperature. You are all right, if Harry were human, he'd be boiling alive ... but he's not, he's an Abeo Veneficus, and the mate of a frozen vampire. Trust me, I promise to explain in the upcoming chapter :)


	5. Waking Up

  
Author's notes: Harry wakes up and learns who his mate is ...  


* * *

** Just a few notes for this chapter, Harry and Sev grow a bit closer in this section, but Severus’ conflicting emotions may be a bit confusing. Please keep in mind that Severus is, at the same time, a vampire who needs his mate, and the snarky, principle ridden, Potions Mater that we all know and love. Also conversations in [square brackets] take place between Harry and Sev through their minds. Any italic dialogue in ‘…’ single quotation marks is Sev’s vampire yelling at him. Hope you all enjoy!**

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… muffled voices reached Harry’s ears as he struggled to open his eyes. He was being carried; it felt so wrong. He tried to tell whoever was touching him to put him down but the pain was too intense and he drifted back into the darkness…

… “What’s wrong with him Poppy?” 

This time Harry didn’t even bother to try to open his eyes, just burrowed deeper into the blankets in a fruitless search for warmth. 

“Creature inheritance … the mate must be naturally cold, his temperature is so high … going to have to put him in a bath of ice … can’t use any magic.” Madam Pomfrey’s response was disjointed, though Harry couldn’t tell if it was because of the heavy down comforter he had moved to cover his ears, or because he just couldn’t think straight. His head was pounding and spinning out of control. Harry thought, _help_ , but couldn’t say it out loud before the black blanket of unconsciousness claimed him again …

 

“Here Harry, drink this.” Fiery hot hands helped hold his head and a horrible tasting liquid was poured down his throat. He fought against the hands. Not the right person. “Don’t touch” he whimpered, the strain from fighting wearing him out. “I know dear, soon, it will end soon.” Pomfrey’s face floated in his vision, her eyes sad and her lips pinched with worry. 

“Poppy!” someone burst through the door to his room. “Professor Snape is here, perhaps he can help” the person sounded familiar but Harry couldn’t turn to look to see who is was; it was so cold and his head was so heavy. 

“I’ll be right back Harry, we’ll make you better” Poppy promised as she moved for the door. 

“H-help, pl-please” Harry murmured although there was no one left in the room to hear him. “please.”…

 

Harry woke up slowly, expecting pain. Yes, there was pain there, still in his head, still thrumming through his veins. But it was no longer a pain of fire and daggers of ice. This was more of an ache, a soreness caused by great strain. He knew how to deal with this ache. He’d felt it many times before, courtesy of his uncle or one of his uncle’s “friends”. The trick was to lie still for as long as possible, and to not open your eyes too quickly; it wouldn’t do to have the room go spinning out of control. At least he was no longer freezing to death. A fever. He had had a fever; he could remember Madam Pomfrey telling him that. Well, it must be gone now because he was feeling comfortably warm now.

Harry shifted slowly, attempting to move his right arm to see the back of his hand. If his “I must not tell lies” scar was still visible he could assume that he still appeared to be Damon Hellsergiggle. Not that it mattered now, somehow Madam Pomfrey had known exactly who he was; maybe his appearance had changed while he was so ill?

His arm encountered an obstacle. Harry froze. There was something firm, yet soft, and wonderfully cool wrapped around him, pinning his arm to his side. He shifted subtly. It wasn’t ‘something’ it was _someone_. Someone was holding him, had enfolded Harry in his arms. Harry realized belatedly that he just _knew_ that this ‘someone’ was a man. A strong man if the feel of the arm was anything to go by. ‘I should be panicking’ though Harry lethargically. But he wasn’t panicking because he felt so _right_. “Creature inheritance … mate” the healer’s voice popped into his mind. He could remember her saying something about his mate making him better.

Huh. So the person, the man, behind him was his mate. Harry couldn’t help but give a small smile of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to be tied to a _girl_. That would have been cruel. Brown eyes slowly blinked open, and though he had braced himself for the shot of pain that usually would have accompanied such an action, he got none. Hmm. That was good. He could still feel his injuries. In fact, there were more now than there had been the night before. His wrist, ribs, and shoulder still hurt, but on top of that his back, both his legs and his, well … _back there_ now hurt as well. And come to think of it his right arm felt funny - like it had when Lockhart had removed the bones. Oh no. Now he could remember. Madam Pomfrey had said his old injuries, anything healed by magic, were resurfacing. His mate had to heal him; no one and nothing else would be able to.

Harry steeled himself and began to turn. Surely someone that he was destined to be with wouldn’t be too angry if Harry woke him up for a healing. No one was that heartless. But before he had even turned more than a fraction of an inch the man behind him was gone. Completely. Harry heard him hit the wall on the opposite side of the room in his haste to pull away.

“It seems that we have a small dilemma Mr. Potter.” The deep, smooth voice brought about a strange mix of reactions in Harry. He knew that voice. It was, at the same time, both the perfect, wonderful voice of his mate, and the voice of Professor Snape. 

“No, please, please no,” Harry whimpered, shifting into the recently vacated space where Snape had lain.

“Oh, do not worry Mr. Potter, you will not have to endure my presence for much longer. I will simply collect what I require and take my leave” replied the Professor, confusing Harry’s moan as one of shame and regret.

Harry wrestled with the blanket; he was so cold again. Fighting against his loudly objecting injuries he pulled the material close, burrowing down until only the top of his head and his eyes showed. Unexplained tears gathered in his eyes and he struggled to explain that he needed Snape over _here_ , that it felt so _wrong_ for him to be all of the way over _there_ , not even in contact with each other. But he couldn’t. Despair closed his throat and an irrational feeling of rejection made him clench his eyes tightly shut. It was surreal, what did _he_ care if Snape didn’t want him. “Please” he whispered, braving the cold air of the room to reach out his left hand towards the still figure in the corner. “Please.”  
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Severus shivered imperceptibly. He had been so weak last night; so thirsty. And Harry’s call had been so strong; the siren song and promise of warmth so compelling that there had been nothing that he could do to fight it. But as he lay there, listening to Harry’s breathing ease, feeling his racing heart slow to a normal rate, he realized that he could not do this. He could not nurture the irrational hope that this _closeness_ was what the boy would want. He would not allow himself to think that they could establish a conventional bond and live a happy life together. Potter was his student, just a young boy, and a creature much too pure for the likes of a Death Eater turned spy. 

So when he had felt Harry awake, and sensed his intent to discover the identity of the ‘mystery figure’ that had held him through the night, he had acted on his growing doubt and fairly flew across the room. “Oh, no worry Mr. Potter, you will not have to endure my presence for much longer. I will simply collect what I require and take my leave,” he had replied in response to the boy’s whimpering, praying that Harry wouldn’t notice the tremor in his voice as he battled to mask his hurt with sarcasm. But the burrowing and the reaching hand were quickly eating away his resolve. By the time he could sense the dejection rolling off of his mate, and could hear Harry’s weak pleas he found himself unconsciously inching forward. It was so cold without the warm body of his mate next to him. _‘Go to him’_ his vampire screeched in his head, _‘He is suffering because of you, because of the separation. You must touch him’_. 

Severus took three large steps towards the bed. The boy’s fever was returning because he needed Severus’ cool body to counteract his extremely high temperature. When the man timidly took Harry’s burning hand the link between them opened once again and Harry’s feelings invaded his mind in a flood of hurt and confusion. Snape couldn’t repress his reaction. His nails lengthened to talons, his fangs dropped and rested against his lower lip. His mate was injured and in pain. He would fix that.

Moving slowly as to not jostle the quaking form more than necessary he slipped beneath the fluffy blanket and scooped Harry to his side.   
The boy gasped, yet at the same time cuddled closer, seeking the relief that only physical contact with his mate could provide. [What?] Harry’s voice filtered into Severus’ mind. He could feel the confusion that his abrupt actions had caused and highly doubted that his mate was aware that he was broadcasting his thoughts.

“It’s alright Potter, just take deep breaths and relax,” Severus pitched his voice low and soothing, trying to alleviate some of the tension that he could feel pervading the other’s mind. When Harry’s form loosened and molded to his side he decided that he would have to explain their situation before trying to find a solution. 

“I don’t suppose anyone has deemed it necessary to explain to you the effects of the creature heritage that you came into on your birthday?” His question was met was a brief shake of the unruly head that was tucked under his chin, and he could hear a few suspiciously sniffle-like intakes of breath before a whispered, “No,” could be heard. Severus sighed; of course not, why would anyone have warned their precious _savior_ that he might experience seemingly random and often painful changes once he reached the age of majority? That would have been too _logical_.

Fine then, he would have to explain Harry’s unique position before he even breached the topic of his own involvement. Shifting into a more comfortable position against the headboard Severus ran a hand over Harry’s back in an attempt to reassure him, but stopped abruptly when the boy winced and let out a quiet whimper. 

“What hurts?” The worry was clear in his voice.

“I don’t know. Everything. It’s like my old injuries are just reappearing.” Harry replied, pulling back to show Snape his boneless right arm. “This was from second year. Madam Pomfrey said she couldn’t fix it with magic … I think she said something like that at least…” his response petered off at his Professor’s frown. 

“Let me see” said the scowling man, taking Harry’s arm in both of his hands, “What other injuries have appeared?”

___________________________________________________________________

 

“Umm” Harry’s said, trying to gather his scattered thoughts as Severus’ hands continued to run gently up and down his arm. “Well, my left wrist and shoulder, both my legs, my ribs, back, and well, others that aren’t so bad.” There was no way that he was going to tell Snape that his ass was burning, that he could feel blood beginning to paste his sleep pants to his skin, even if he was his mate. No, that was something that he would take care of himself; he always had anyway. 

“All of these wounds had been healed with magic?” Dark eyes bored into Harry’s sienna ones, demanding the truth.   
“Y-yes, and well, no ... umm, mostly” Harry winced. ‘At least I can always depend on my amazing vocabulary’ he though ruefully, not knowing that Severus could hear his thoughts just as well as his spoken comments. At the arched eyebrow and scowl from the other man Harry elaborated, “Most are, yes, but a few, like my shoulder, I think I healed by myself. Accidentally” he added, fearing a reprimand for using magic outside of school.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Right, it seems as though I will need to heal these for you then. Apparently the bond is asserting itself and rejecting any healing magics that did not originate from your mate.” Severus studiously ignored the audible gulp that sounded from Harry’s direction when he said the word “mate”. The boy would just have to become accustomed to the idea that they were mates. 

“Lie back and try to relax. I will do the best that I can with healing spells and later I will get you whatever potions you need to deal with the rest.” The Potions Master carefully slipped out from under the duvet and pushed back the blanket to allow Harry space to stretch out. He was just turning away to locate his wand when the smell hit him. Blood. Fresh blood. _‘Mate’s fresh blood’_ his vampire clarified unnecessarily. Without the suppressant he had no hope of containing his reaction. Whirling, eyes black, fangs bared, he pinned the boy to the bed. 

“Stay calm Potter” he ground out, feeling Harry attempt to push him off and hearing his terrified squeak. “You are bleeding and I need just a moment to reign in my instincts” he lied smoothly. There was no way that he was going to say that he needed to taste the blood, to drink it down and feel it pouring through his being. Taking slow, deep breaths Severus fought to tell himself that his _mate_ was injured, and that he needed to heal him to take away his pain. Finding that the figure beneath him had stopped struggling, the vampire calmed considerably. _Heal_ , right he needed to heal Harry, make him comfortable and safe, just as any good mate would. Severus breathed a sigh of relief as he felt his fangs begin to withdraw, the screaming in his ears to claim his mate here and now fading to a soft whisper that could be ignored. He sat back up, releasing the wrists that he had been aware of grabbing, and winced guiltily at the look of pain on the boy’s face as he clutched his left hand to his chest. 

Sniffing delicately, Snape rose and walked across the room to where his wand lay, forgotten the night before, on the floor. The blood smelt so good, so vibrant and full of life. Sniffing again as he returned to the bed he frowned. Harry had turned to lie obediently on his back, his head on a pillow and his arms at his sides. He watched Snape wearily as the man took in the small patch of red that stained the under sheet where Harry had been lying moments ago. That was odd. The boy had said that his back hurt. Perhaps he had been cut on his back and the wound had reopened? But no, the blood was to far down. Harry was bleeding from an injury below his back … bleeding from his backside.

Severus growled; the sound starting low within his chest and reverberating out to fill the room with a deep rumbling. If that blood was coming from where he thought it was coming from someone was going to die a horribly painful death. Ignoring the suddenly fearful brown eyes that were searching his face anxiously he sat lightly on the edge of the bed and took Harry’s oddly boneless hand in both of his own. 

“What other injuries do you have Harry?”

_____________________________________________________________________

_No. I will not answer. He can’t make me say it out loud._ Harry shifted his gaze, focusing on a point just above Snape’s head. Plus, he can see the blood anyway so it’s not like he doesn’t know where it’s probably coming from. But despite how hard he tried to formulate a response, a lie, any lie at all to appease the man before him, Harry could not. He couldn’t make himself lie. 

“It-it’s just an old thing. I got hurt a while ago. It’s okay, if you heal the other stuff, this’ll take care of itself,” Harry stuttered, turning his head away and staring intently at his hands. 

[No] a voice suspiciously like Snape’s sounded in his head. [That is not acceptable. I cannot leave an open wound susceptible to infection. Tell me why you are bleeding.] Harry winced. The voice was angry, and a quick glance up at his professor’s face told him that, despite the gentle stroking of his hand, the man was barely concealing his rage.

[I had a bad experience,] he thought, concentrating on reaching his “mate’s” mind. A brief feeling of impatience filtered into Harry’s consciousness. [Look, _someone_ hurt me once and I pretty much healed it myself, so if you’d just deal with the rest of it, I can take care of that,] he replied in what he hoped was a firm, decided tone.

“I will not,” said Severus, catching Harry by surprise by suddenly speaking aloud. Standing and brandishing his wand in a large, sweeping motion over Harry’s whole body, Severus recited a few potent healing charms under his breath. Then, as a precaution, he performed a scan of the slight body before him. Frowning darkly at the number of broken or fractured bones that the scan turned up, he made a mental note to procure at least three measures of Skele-grow as soon as possible. “Now turn over, and let me heal your _other_ injury” the glowering man ordered, his tone harsh from anger.

The relief that had accompanied Severus’ healing quickly vanished. Harry sat up, noticing that his right arm was still annoyingly floppy. “No, I mean it. Please. Can you just listen to me this once?” He knew he sounded like he was begging, and as much as he hated it, he would resort to anything if Snape would just let the issue drop.

The look on Severus’ face told him that he wasn’t going to get his wish, and heaving a sigh of supposed defeat he said “Alright, just let me use the loo first.” Without waiting for an answer he stood and slipped by the dubious looking man before him and padded as calmly as possible into the washroom before shutting and locking the door. Sinking to the floor in relief, Harry cast the strongest locking ward he could on without his wand, and shifted to rest his back against the wooden door. ‘Just for now, please, please, keep him out,’ he thought letting his head fall back with a thump.

Mate or no mate, Harry had spent six years listening to Snape tell him that he was stupid, an impertinent brat; practically telling him that he was worthless. The man had exploited his every weakness day after day, humiliating him at every chance. There was no way that Harry was just going to up and forgive him, even if some of the cruelty had been deserved. He was not going to lie down and let the one man who despised him the most, second only to Voldemort perhaps, see what he had let his uncle do to him. He would rather stay in this room forever. 

 

 

** So here is chapter five. I hope that you all enjoyed it. I have to thank jiggnbatty for taking the time to edit for me, your imput is appreciated more than I can ever tell you! I'm sorry that the update is later than I'd said, but I'll try to get chapter six up by next weekend ...   
Thanks must also go to all those who have taken the time to review, you are all amazing ...  
Thanks for reading; more to come! ***


	6. Someone who can help

  
Author's notes: overcoming barriers ...  


* * *

Severus knew that the boy was lying when he had claimed that he would allow Severus to heal him after his impromptu visit to the loo, but could not prevent him from leaving as he could feel that the boy truly needed to go. To retain him would have been unnecessarily cruel. But when the door closed he felt the rush of his mate’s power he knew that he had made a grave mistake. 

 

“Open the door please,” he asked with a forced calm, stepping over to the door and pressing his hands flat on the cool surface. There was more than a locking ward on the door. There was a power there that seemed to set its very will against anyone or thing that might try to enter. Harry was using his powers as an Abeo Veneficus, and whether knowingly or unknowingly, he had made it impossible to anyone to get into that room unless Harry expressly permitted them entrance. Severus could feel his muscles tensing, his vampiric traits making their hundredth (or so it seemed) appearance since he had entered the bedroom the night before. 

 

“Please, Harry, open the door,” he asked again, a tremor of panic escaping into his voice when he realized that, not only was the door keeping him out physically, it was also blocking his mental connection with his mate. “Please,” he almost begged, scratching at the door in a manner very similar to a dog desperate to enter a house. He might as well have been talking to himself; there was absolutely no response to his pleas.

 

With one last feeble pound on the door Severus jumped up and summoned his wand to his hand. Bursting from the room he stepped quickly down the hallway and descended the stairs. Thankfully it was mid-morning, so there were not many guests in the large dining area of the inn. The few that were sitting enjoying a hearty brunch glanced up at him with little interest; it was no concern of theirs if Severus Snape, Hogwarts’ potions professor, swept down the stairs in his customary manner. One pair of eyes, however, did not leave him as he moved across the wood floor towards the bar.

 

“Professor, what’s wrong? We weren’t expecting you out of that room for days yet, and where is young Damon?” asked a very worried looking Alice.

 

“ _Damon_ has seen it fit to separate himself from me. The separation, however, will prove detrimental to his health if we are out of contact for a prolonged period of time,” Severus told her tersely, his voice pitched low as to prevent unwanted eavesdropping. “Has Madam Promfrey returned to Hogwarts?”

 

“She did,” replied Alice, eyes wide as she processed the danger that Harry had put himself in. “The poor dear was so tired after her night with Damon that she left right after she made sure that the wards would keep other people’s magic out of his room.”

 

“Damn,” Snape cursed under his breath. “I will need to use your floo to contact her then; I am not in the habit of carrying floo powder about everywhere I go.”

 

“Of course, just follow me,” said Alice over her shoulder as she moved into the kitchen and through to what looked like a private sitting room. Moments later Severus found himself standing among glowing green flames, with his head hanging out of Dumbledore’s fireplace. As the school’s fireplaces were considered private connections, and so could only be accessed by a few select networks, he would have to go through the Headmaster to find the Medi-witch. 

 

“Severus, my boy, where in the world have you been?” asked Albus before Severus had even managed to call out for him.

 

“Headmaster, I am afraid I do not have the time to explain. I have found my mate and now have an emergency on my hands. Could you please contact Poppy, and follow through to the Gilded Sword?” Severus wished fervently that just once Albus would do as he was asked and not stop to ask questions. The dark haired man sighed in relief when his employer nodded quickly and stood, moving closer to the fireplace.

 

“We will be there in a moment, disconnect from your end so I call collect Poppy.”

 

A few scant minutes later a tense Severus was leading Albus, Poppy, and Alice up the stairs and into Harry’s room. As he had feared, the door to the lavatory was still firmly shut and glowing slightly with the power it now housed.

 

“Severus, where is your mate?” inquired Dumbledore, his blue eyes taking in the ruffled, bloodied bed sheets, and the closed door. 

 

“He has seen fit to lock himself in the washroom, and has warded me out. Completely.” Severus could not help himself, in the need to be close to his new-found mate he walked over to the barrier and pressed his back against the gently pulsing wood. At Poppy’s worried gasp and Albus’ confused expression he realized that he would have to explain more fully.

 

_Mate, mate, mine mate, blood, so cold, mate…_ whined his vampire self pitifully, shifting restlessly in his mind. Pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to stave off the impending headache, Severus took a calming breath and continued. “I know this may sound abrupt but we do not have time for me to sit and tell you each small detail. Here is what you need to know: Harry Potter is my mate, he is also an Abeo Veneficus, who has locked himself away where I cannot touch him. After seeing how quickly his situation worsened before I arrived last night, it appears that he has little more than three hours before the separation kills him.”

 

The reactions that followed his crass synopsis of the situation did not surprise Severus and he watched unmoved as Albus lost the merry twinkle in his eyes, and paled so quickly that he swayed from the sudden rush of blood away from his brain. Poppy’s response was also predictable; her professionalism took over and Severus’ pronouncement was met with a quick tightening of her lips and a barely audible gasp. Alice, unlike the other two, was unable to contain her shock. 

 

“H-har-harry P-potter,” she mumbled as she sank to the ground, sitting with a thump and gazing dazedly at the shut door. “Oh dear, oh dear.” 

 

Poppy, seeing her distress crouched down in front of the shaking woman and handed her a calming draught which she brought out from one of her numerous pockets. The healer then offered one to Severus, which he declined with a sharp shake of his head, and placed a vial in Albus’ slack grip.

 

“Abeo Veneficus?” repeated the Headmaster in a flustered, breathy whisper. “No, no, it can’t be, he would have shown signs. The Abeo race is tall and strong. He can’t be…” he mumbled under his breath.

 

“He definitely is!” snapped Severus sharply. He wouldn’t tolerate any insinuation that he didn’t at least know what race his mate was of.

 

Albus eyes flew to Severus’ and he held his gaze. With a smile he said, “Well then, I guess we have no choice but to wait. If the boy has spelled the door shut no one is going to get in.”

 

_Lie! Bloody old coot. Mate, mate, please, mate, mine. In. In. IN!_ screamed Snape’s vampire, shattering his already precarious control. With a snarl Severus slammed his fist down on the door, and shouted, “No! You have not listened to what I am trying to tell you. Harry will die! He will not let me in, so he will not receive the physical contact that he needs to sustain him. There has to be a way to get this door open!”

 

“Severus, calm down. We all know that this is hard for you. Here, breathe,” said Poppy soothingly, handing him Harry’s Hogwarts cloak, which she had taken from where it had hung off the back of a chair. Severus glared at her, then at Albus, and brought the cloak up to his face. Ignoring the brief embarrassment at such an open display of weakness, he nuzzled his face into the fabric and breathed in deeply, smelling Harry’s scent. In the rational part of his mind he knew that his mate was right there, just beyond the door, but his vampire persisted to scream for Harry to be near. He inhaled and sighed, feeling a calm wash over him as fangs that he didn’t know had descended, withdrew at the exquisite smell.

 

“There is one person who could get into that room,” Poppy stated calmly when Severus emerged from behind his new comfort-cloak. 

 

“No, she’s not…” began Albus, before the dark glare that Severus sent him silenced his objection.

 

“She’s the only other known Abeo Venefica living right now. She could get through young Mr. Potter’s wards easily,” finished the slightly annoyed looking woman.

 

“Where do I find her?” Severus could barely contain the urgency that he felt. Someone could help him get to Harry. Someone could open that goddamned door.

 

“No one knows” said Dumbledore, a small smirk on his lips, “she hasn’t been seen in over fifty years.”

 

“Aerialnaen Coamelnonin will come when she hears of Harry’s need,” stated Poppy with confidence. At Severus’ raised eyebrow she continued, “Her name translates to Lady of the Earth; she is perhaps the most powerful being alive. It is said that when an innocent being is in dire need, then she will come to their aid.”

 

“So we wait for a mystical, all knowing _being_ to show up and suddenly everything will be alright?!” Severus bypassed anger and jumped straight to rage. His _Mate_ was in that room, likely suffering, and Poppy’s best suggestion was to sit like simpletons and wait for the solution to come to them. No!

 

Severus whirled, growled low in his throat, and began tearing at the door; his vampiric traits bursting to the surface as he clawed at the door with inhuman strength and speed. But his efforts were in vain; for every splinter of wood that he wrenched from the door, another materialized in its place.

 

“I said no such thing Severus Snape. I appreciate that this is difficult for you, however, if you continue to bite my head off every time I speak, I will take it as an indication that my presence is no longer needed here!” The irritated witch snapped back, glaring at Severus darkly. “If you had allowed me to continue, you would have learned that it so happens that I served my apprenticeship under Lady Aerilnaen, and have been close friends with her since then. I have a means of contacting her when I need to.” Still glaring she pulled a thin silver necklace out from under her Healer’s robes and touched the pale blue crystal adorning the chain to her forehead. With her eyes closed in concentration she murmured, “My Lady, if you will, I am in dire need of your help.” The crystal pulsed and glowed a deep royal blue and Poppy tucked it back beneath her robes. “She is coming,” she stated contentedly.

 

Severus twitched and fidgeted impatiently for a moment before once again grasping Harry’s cloak and breathing in deeply the heavenly scent of his mate. “How long?” he asked, once he had sufficiently calmed. Belatedly he noticed that although he was no longer driven by the mad need to break down the door, he was still in his vampire form. It was a good thing that he had spelled the windows dark the night before; else the sunlight of midday would have wreaked havock on his skin.

 

“Right now,” said a melodic voice, as a heavily cloaked figure stepped through the door to Harry’s room. With a start Severus realized that the door had been heavily warded; indeed it still was. This woman had passed right through both his and Poppy’s wards as if they were not there.

 

“Aerial!” exclaimed Poppy, moving across the room and embracing the newcomer. “It has been far too long. Here, allow me to take your cloak.”

 

“Poppy,” the stranger sighed happily, “you’re right, it has been far too long. Forgive me; I’ve been busy these past few years. These Muggles seem to be set on tearing down the entire rainforest.” As she spoke, Aerial swept off her cloak and, handing it to Poppy, turned to face the others in the room. Even in his blurry state Severus could barely contain a gasp at the sheer beauty of the woman before him. Her long deep brown hair fell in ringlets past her shoulder, and even in the dim light of the room he could see her hair was not merely a deep brown, but a mixture of dark browns, auburn, black and lighter brown combined. She was strikingly tall, well over six feet, and was slender and lithe. She was wearing a simple garb of forest green leggings, laced up the sides and a matching tunic, with a plain cream shirt beneath the tunic. Although plain, it was obvious that the clothes were very well made and were of a fine material. Detailed embroidery swirled in a vine-like pattern up her sleeves and twisted in intricate designed on her tunic, and on her feet she wore a pair of boots that seemed to be molded to fit her feet and legs perfectly. Her features were delicate, high cheekbones, soft pink lips, and a perfect nose adorned her face. Her pointed ears confirmed to him that she was more than just an Abeo Venefica. 

 

Laughter like the chiming of quiet bells sounded out across the room and Severus found his eyes being drawn to meet her cheerful gaze. “You are right, Professor, I am a mix of a great many things,” Aerial told him. Her eyes were by far her most unique characteristic, as they did not remain one colour, but fluctuated, seeming to follow some unknown pattern. As Severus watched, entranced, they slipped from piercing crystal blue, to a deep royal blue, to a dark navy that was nearly black.

 

“My eye colour follows my emotions,” she informed him, picking up on his fascination. The vampire quirked an eyebrow at her intuitive response. “The Abeo Venefici and Elvin blood that make up but part of what I am allow me to see into your mind.” At the dark scowl that flashed upon the potions Master’s face she continued, “Not to worry; I only abuse the ability when it is deserved.”

 

Severus shuddered; he would not want to make an enemy of the ethereal figure before him. The very air in the room sang of her power. 

 

“Aerial, this is Alice Natly, the owner of this fine establishment; Albus Dumbledore, whom I believe you have met before; and this, “she gestured to the dark hair man still standing vigil by the washroom door, “is Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts.” Alice bowed low after the introduction, mumbled a quick pardon excusing herself to see to her other neglected guests, and slipped out of the room. Albus inclined his head politely and moved to grasp the hand that was offered to him.

 

“Headmaster, I am glad to see that you are well,” Aerial said warmly and smiled, though Severus noted with some interest that her eyes flickered from royal blue to a purple-ringed indigo. 

 

“And the same to you my Lady,” replied Dumbledore, releasing her hand and stepping back. “We are fortunate that you were able to come so quickly.”

 

“Yes, well, where there is a need, right Headmaster?” the woman responded, pinning Dumbledore with her unwavering gaze, then turning her attention to Severus, and beyond, to the door that he stood protectively in front of. “Thank you for taking the time to come ensure the safety of your Professor,” she said over her shoulder to Albus. “Now I believe that there is work that must be done here, so if you will excuse us I believe that Mrs. Natly has just removed a tray of rather delicious looking shortbread cookies from the oven, if you would like to join her downstairs?” The statement was stated as a question, but everyone in the room heard the unspoken order belying her words.

 

“Yes, I believe I will. Thank you” replied Albus after a few terse moments of silence, during which Aerial had turned back around and was contemplating the closed wooden door. After the Headmaster made his exit she looked up at Poppy.

 

“Harry Potter?” she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the lavatory.

 

“Yes, poor dear,” replied Poppy. “He has come into his inheritance and is not taking it as well as you had hoped.”

 

Severus’ head snapped up and he once again turned the full force of his fierce patented Potions Master glower on his colleague. “You knew?” he snarled. “You both knew and yet did nothing to prepare him!” he said loudly, not daring to include his new acquaintance in his torrent of accusation. 

 

“Yes,” broke in Aerial, stepping forward and placing her hand on Severus’ arm. Immediately Severus felt calm, completely calm. As though through a thick haze he realized that he had returned to his human appearance. “I am sorry for the suffering that your mate and, through him, you have had to endure. I had been prohibited from interfering. Luckily though, I can no more ignore a direct plea for help, than I can allow an innocent to suffer needless additional pain.”

 

Nodding in acceptance, and blinking rapidly to clear his mind he said, “Young Mr. Potter and I have had a less that cordial relationship in the past and I fear that he is unable to look beyond past actions to allow himself to recognize his need to be with his mate.”

 

Aerial cocked her head. “But that is not all,” she hummed softly. “No, there is something else. You should know Professor, that if you do not tell me the truth, all of the truth, there is nothing that can stop me from taking it from your mind myself.” It was not a threat, merely a statement of fact.

 

Severus warred with himself silently for a moment. On one hand he loathed being held powerless by those around him, and being forced to admit his mistakes, but on the other, he knew that she was telling the truth, and that if she needed to know everything in order to help Harry, then he would have to tell her. “I first felt the pull to Harry when he was born,” he admitted reluctantly. “It was an urge to find and protect, not to claim him,” he added defensively, throwing up his hands to stave off their expected reactions. But none came.

 

“My mate was a vampire,” said Aerial comfortingly, “I know all there is to know about the ways of your kind.” 

 

Reassured Severus continued, “Because of my _situation_ I did not think that it was wise to endanger my mate by making our connection known at the time, so I created a suppressant potion, which I have been taking these last seventeen years.”

 

“You were afraid.” Aerial’s distinctive eyes turned a golden amber, indicating the first beginnings of her anger. “You were afraid as much for yourself as you were for him, so you took the cowardly way out.”

 

Severus balked at her accusation, but then nodded and lowered his head is defeat. “Yes.”

 

“What you have done has hurt both of you Severus, but it has hurt Harry the most. To deny an Abeo bond is akin to rejecting it. Rejection by one’s mate causes death. There is no comparison to the pain that is caused by the rejection of one’s mate. It seems there is more for me to fix here then a locked door, hmm?” The woman moved closer to Severus and in a fluid motion cupped his chin in her palm. “Come; let us bring him back to you.” Her gaze had softened, and as Severus looked timidly into her slightly cat-like eyes, they transferred from an amber of annoyance to a soft caring green.

 

“Poppy,” said Aerial, turning to face her waiting friend, “could you please bring as many healing, fever reducing, and restorative potions as you can find that Severus himself has brewed?”

 

Nodding, Poppy turned to the fireplace on the wall and after lighting it with a quick spell, threw in a measure of Floo powder and, stepping through, said clearly “Hogwarts’ Infirmary.” 

 

Once the Healer had gone, Severus found himself being lead by the hand towards the door. Seeing Aerial lift her hand and place it flat against the wood he whispered, “He’s locked me out. There’s nothing that can get through that powerful a ward.” He glanced away as his voice caught in his throat, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

 

The tear was brushed away tenderly by a smooth, cool fingertip. “There is no power greater than mine,” Aerial told him, and he watched in amazement as she pushed on the door and it swung open at her touch. Following her through, the first thing that he saw was Harry, lying in a tub of steaming red water, wrapped in similarly tinged towels.

 

“Harry!” he sobbed, dropping Aerial’s hand and lurching forward, plunging his arms into the scalding water and gathering the soaked, alarmingly still body to his chest. “Harry, oh please, please love, wake up.”

 

________________________________________________________________________

 

** Please don’t hate me! What good is it to end a chapter if not with a cliffhanger? First off, thank you to all who have reviewed my story thus far; your reviews are the highlight of my day. And a big, huge thank you to my beta jiggnbatty for all of your help! What would I do without you? Next, a few explanations:  
Aerialnaen Coamelnonin – pronounced “Air–ree–al–nay–en Coh-mel-non-nin”, means “Lady of the Earth”. She is a creature of my creation, though her name, and many of her characteristics, stem from Tolkien-verse Elves and their characteristics. Her last name is a derivative of the Tolkien Elvish word for “My love”. Her story will be clarified as the plot progresses. As of right now, what is essential to know is that she is the most powerful being alive, and is not under the command of any other being.  
Also, in the next chapter it will be explained why Harry is in the state that he is in. Do not worry; this is not a death fic :)  
Thank you for reading! Please review, it truly does make my day!!


	7. This new closeness

  
Author's notes: Out of the washroom ...  


* * *

Harry didn’t realize at first just how long he had spent leaning against the washroom door. One minute he was asking the wood to keep Snape out, and the next he was waking up, freezing cold, and curled up in a ball on the hard floor. He shivered, stretched and winced when he saw the smears of red on the white ceramic tiles. ‘Great, just great,’ he thought when he caught sight of his still boneless right hand. Across his hand in open, raw letters was the phrase ‘I must not tell lies’. It seemed as though all of his injuries were going to reassert themselves.

 

‘I should have had Snape heal the other stuff before coming in here, stubborn bloody bastard,’ he thought vehemently. Standing up and moving towards the small closet in the corner of the room Harry groaned loudly. Yepp; there were definitely new broken bones that had shown up as he slept. Limping heavily he tottered over to the closet and pulled out a pile of fluffy towels that were almost as long as he was tall. Wrapping one securely around his shaking frame he tossed the other two into the bathtub. After plugging the drain and setting the bath to fill with steaming hot water he gingerly removed his clothing, careful to prevent his shirt from dragging over his throbbing back. 

 

‘Why is it,’ he wondered, ‘that I feel so bloody cold all the time, and clinging to a frozen vampire makes me feel warm?’ When the bath was full he gently stepped in, ignoring his body’s protests when the hot water lapped over his many cuts. Lying back he draped the now sodden towels over himself in an attempt to garner even more warmth.

 

Lying in his bath Harry soon began to drift. His mind slowed and his thoughts became hazy and unfocused. The one clear idea in his mind was that he had to open the door, had to get to his mate. But Harry resolutely ignored that part of his mind, pushing it back to the furthest recesses of his consciousness. After a period of time, he wasn’t sure how long, the water began to feel cool and uncomfortable against his skin so he used his toe to prod the hot water tap on and lift the plug to let a bit of the old bathwater out. Feeling the heat begin to diffuse throughout the bath, Harry smiled. “Well, maybe I can just take a hot bath every time I get too cold,” he said to the ceiling. What he didn’t notice was that the water that he was sitting in was turning his skin an angry red and was steaming far too much to be healthy.

 

… Harry drifted … he dozed … He woke occasionally to let more hot water into the bath, then fell back asleep …

 

Suddenly he was awake. The water was like ice, and no amount of new hot water was making it any better. He felt so _wrong_. He needed to get to the door; he had to find Sev, had to hold him. But the towels that had once been a comforting underwater blanket became a leaden restraint, and he could not lift himself from the bath.

 

“Help!” he tried calling out, but of course no one answered. No one could get in, because … because … he couldn’t remember why! He was all alone, freezing to death and no one was going to come save him. Silent tears slipped down his face, the salty water mixing with the steaming pool that he rested in. Too tired to fight anymore Harry stilled and allowed the darkness to swallow him.

* * *

“Harry, oh please, please love, wake up.” A voice penetrated the black fog that Harry had been swimming through. Wake up? He was awake; why would he have to wake up? It slowly occurred to Harry that one did not swim leisurely through swirling black mist in the waking world. And the voice, the perfect, wonderful voice; it sounded panicked and so sad. Harry didn’t want the beautiful voice to be scared, so he concentrated on waking up, on moving, on opening his eyes. It was harder than it should have been, harder than it had ever been before.

 

“Mmeh,” he said, proud of himself for even making a sound.   
Ouch. Waking up might not have been the best idea. Every inch of his body hurt as though he had just walked through a wall of flame. But there was something cool wrapped around him. Someone that felt so good against his skin was holding him. Harry sighed and gave up his fight with unconsciousness. Snuggling closer to the person that felt so _right_ he fell back asleep. 

 

When he woke the second time he knew immediately that he was awake. There was no hazy mist, no pulling himself through the fog of a clouded brain. This time he came awake suddenly, and couldn’t help but call out from the pain.

 

“Hush love, I know,” came Snape’s voice from next to his ear. “I’ve been healing you the best I can, but healing spells can only achieve so much. I am aware that it will make you uncomfortable but I need to give you some potions and apply a salve to your burns.”

 

Harry opened one bleary eye and then the other. “Burns?” he repeated.

 

“The water you were lying in was nearly boiling,” replied Severus tightly. Harry could tell that he was upset, though whether by the damage that the heat had done to Harry himself, or at his brash stupidity at locking Severus out of the washroom, Harry wasn’t sure. He turned his head more fully and peered into deep black eyes. Then, without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his cheek against the smooth, cool one before him. He felt Severus stiffen and began to pull back, but was stopped when a strong pair of arms wrapped ever so gently around him and stayed his movement.

 

“How bad are the burns?” Harry asked Severus’ ear. 

 

Again his answer was tight, filled with barely concealed anger. “Bad. Nearly every inch of your skin has been affected, with the exception of your head, which thankfully, you managed to keep above water.”

 

Harry blushed and shifted even closer to the man next to him. Following Harry’s timid lead, Severus lay back and allowed Harry to lay draped across his chest. His naked chest, Harry realized with a start.

 

“Umm, why … I mean, you and I, huh. What happened to my clothes? And well, err, yours?” Harry blushed crimson. 

 

“Move against the blanket,” instructed Severus, and Harry complied, though he was confused by the order.

 

“Ouch!” Harry whimpered as the raw skin on his back chafed against the rough blanket.

 

“My body is naturally cold, so contact with my skin does little to aggravate your skin, also direct skin on skin contact is allowing our bond to settle and the transfer of energy is working to heal what I cannot with magic.” Severus lifted his head and regarded his still flushed mate. “Do not worry Mr. Potter, you will find that your modesty has not been impeached upon; we are merely shirtless, not entirely nude,” he drawled.

 

“Don’t,” said Harry shortly. When he felt the older man’s head tilt to the side he continued, “Don’t call me Mr. Potter, at least not right now, it makes me feel like you’re about to give me a detention for ruining a potion.” He kept his head lying on the cool chest beneath him and resolutely did not meet his mate’s piercing gaze.

 

“If it bothers you so, then I will refrain. I am sorry … Harry, I realize that this _closeness_ will take time for both of us to adjust to.” Harry closed his eyes, and felt one tear slide its way across his temple and drop onto the skin below his head. He didn’t know why, but when Severus referred to their potential bond as “closeness” it made his heart break. 

 

“Severus,” a clear voice floated reproachfully from the far corner of the room. “What have I told you of misinterpreted rejection?”

 

Harry started and quickly sat up, searching out the source of the melodic voice. There in the corner, in a large fluffy armchair facing the fireplace, was the most beautiful woman the he had ever seen. Even Fleur, with all of her Veela charms, paled dismally in comparison. “Wh-who, umm, hello,” he stuttered as he feebly pulled the blanket up to his chin, making sure that he was completely covered.

 

“I am Aerialnaen Coamelnonin, though some call me Lady of the Earth. I am the only other Abeo Venefici currently walking this earth. You gave us all quite a scare there Harry, so I will be staying nearby for a time to ease help ease you into your new situation.” Aerial inclined her head, but did not rise to approach the bed, sensing Harry’s nervousness. “What Severus meant to say was that your new _relationship_ will take time for the two of you to adjust to.”

 

Harry turned wide eyes to Severus and searched his face for any disagreement at the strange woman’s declaration. What he was not expecting was for the man to reach out and cup the back of his head, stroking his neck tenderly.

 

“I am finding myself a bit out of my depth here,” Severus whispered softly, “she is right, I apologise for the slip of my tongue.”

 

“Of course I’m right,” Aerial snorted delicately. “I took the thought out of your own mind.” She smiled widely at Harry’s expression of disbelief. “You will find, Mr. Potter, that there are a great number of abilities that come with being an Abeo Veneficus. Once you learn how to use and control them, there is so much fun to be had.”

 

“I’ll be able to read people’s minds?” asked the dazed boy from the bed.

 

“Among a great many other things,” replied Aerial. “But I will teach you about all of that once you have settled your bond with your mate, that way your magic will be much more stable and easier to work with.” After Harry’s slight nod, she stood gracefully and moved towards the door. “Now that you have awoken, I am going to go find myself a bowl of the soup that Alice has just finished making. I have taken the room next to yours, so if you are in need of my assistance, simply knock on the wall. Although I will undoubtedly feel any disturbance before you call,” she said, locking her indigo gaze with Severus’ obsidian one. Then with a soft click of the door, she was gone.

 

“Her eyes …” said Harry, turning his face back to Severus. The older man smirked and chuckled.

 

“An all powerful, mystical being tells you that she will be teaching you as our bond grows, and all that you have to ask about is her eye colour.” Harry blushed and looked down at the bedspread. “Apparently, it changes with her emotions. From what I have observed blue and deep purple hues signify happiness or contentment and amber indicates anger or annoyance; beyond that I am not sure,” supplied Severus, ignoring Harry’s bashful “Oh”.

 

Harry nodded his understanding and then settled back down against his pillow. He hissed out a breath; he had forgotten about his abused skin.

 

“Here,” his mate shifted and stood up from the bed, “come this way so that I can heal that for you.” Harry obediently scooted over into the space that the other man had just vacated. As Severus moved into the washroom to gather the needed potion and salve, Harry lay on his back and closed his eyes.

 

A rush of cold air breezed over his flesh when Severus reappeared suddenly and drew back the sheet. He felt his cheeks heating as the black gaze looked over his torso appraisingly. 

 

“I need you to remove the rest of your clothing,” stated the Potions Master, squeezing a large amount of fresh smelling cream into his hand.

 

No! Not now; why can’t I just do it myself? Harry’s mind was filled with protests and he began to sit up, already eyeing the washroom.

 

‘Relax Harry,’ Severus’ soothing velvet voice sounded in his head. ‘To heal the other injuries that you were suffering from, I have already seen all there is to see.’ Feeling the boy’s mounting panic the professor continued, ‘Do not doubt that we will talk about that later, but we will wait until you are ready to confront the issue. But for now, please trust me. I cannot do anything to purposefully hurt you with hurting my own soul. Your burns must be attended to, and you cannot do this yourself, because as your mate, I must tend to all of your ills until the bond is settled.’

 

Harry’s cheeks bloomed crimson, but he hesitantly nodded his consent, raising his hips off of the mattress and stripping off his pants and shorts. Then, with his eyes smashed tightly shut, he lay back and waited.

 

An odd feeling began in his chest as Severus tenderly applied the salve to the angry red streak marring the perfect, pale skin of Harry’s upper body. He frowned. It felt like his chest was constricting – but not in a bad way. It was like the tightness that you feel when you’re excited or when exerting harsh control. With a start Harry realized what the source of the feeling was. Severus was aroused. Painfully so. But he was holding it in check; Harry probed gently across the link that they shared. When his mind connected with his mate’s the feelings and images overwhelmed him and he could not suppress his gasp at the depth of feeling that came pouring into his mind.

* * *

_Mate, mate, make mate feel good. Protect. Heal. Mine. Mine. Little one; mate!_ Severus studiously ignored the happy chorus that his vampire was crowing in his head. He could tell that Harry was frightened. What bothered him was that he was not frightened of the potential pain of a healing; rather, he feared that Severus would take advantage of his helpless state. Severus and his vampire snarled as one. Whoever had hurt _his_ Harry was going to die a slow, painful death.

 

Severus tried; he really did. He closed the bond as much as possible without alerting Harry to the change. He tried to filter the feelings and images that sprang to his mind into a more appropriate realm. But it was to no avail. The effect that running his hands over his mate’s smooth, perfectly pliant skin had Severus cursing himself for not taking a moment to find his robes. His trousers did nothing to hide his, growing, problem.

 

He felt immediately when Harry pushed through the mock barrier between them and heard the boy’s startled gasp. He froze and withdrew his hands until they were hovering about a foot over the boy’s delicious, Quidditch-toned chest. 

 

“I apologize, Harry. I can no more control my reaction to you than a wolf can deny the need to hunt. Please believe that, in this area, as in all others of our relationship, I will defer to your pace of choice.” Startled brown eyes pinned Severus to the spot, hypnotizing him with the swirl of emotion in their depths. The boy nodded and closed his eyes again.

 

“Mind open,” he said. 

 

And Severus replied with a shaky, “As you wish.”

 

“So that I know what’s coming,” the boy’s voice shook as well. Comprehension dawned in Severus’ mind and he proceeded with his task, clearly thinking about each motion before his moved. But the boy was, confused? As Severus moved down the bed and pick up one of Harry’s blistered feet, his feet had been most directly under the assault of the hot water, he tentatively explored his mate’s mind for the source of the confusion. When he found it, he almost wished that he could drop what he was doing and kill Harry’s family. Harry wasn’t confused because of his emotions, or even because of Severus’ own reaction to the sight of Harry’s nude form. Rather, he was puzzled as to _why_ Severus was turned on by his body. It was as if the boy simply didn’t understand.

 

“Harry,” said Severus, the words pushed out from between clenched teeth, “do you think that you could return to your normal appearance?” He was trying to distract Harry from the violent thoughts swirling in his mind and he sighed in relief when he felt his mate’s mind turn introspective, and Harry squinted in concentration. A moment later beautiful, wide emerald eyes found Severus’ gaze and he watched as Harry lifted his hand and traced the lightening bolt scar on his forehead then ran has hand through permanently tousled black hair. 

 

“Better?” asked the brat with an almost cheeky smile. 

 

“Infinitely,” replied Severus, before he could stop himself. Harry flashed a blinding smile and the potions Mater found himself forgiving his embarrassment, as long as Harry would keep smiling at him like that. Severus’ vampire purred. His mate was happy, healthier than he had been for the last two days, and was back to his _gorgeous_ self. Today was going to be a good day.

 

Harry giggled, but stifled the sound at the older man’s crimson blush. Apparently Severus had been unaware that Harry could hear even his vampire’s thoughts.  
Severus smiled through his mortification. Whatever made his mate happy, he could live with… he hoped. He held his breath, and then thought very clearly about his next move. Then he deftly poured more salve into his hand and gently rubbed it onto Harry’s hardening cock. He could feel the boy’s arousal, and trepidation. He could feel his vampire compelling him to do more than just apply the cream; the bond screaming for him to take and claim and make Harry feel good. But he didn’t. Harry would set the pace of this part of their relationship. If it took years for the boy to allow him to even see his body again, then so it would be. 

 

“Turn over,” his voice was gravelly and rough with the amount of emotion flowing through his mind.

 

Harry complied immediately, and his near-silent, “thank you,” was almost lost in the rustle of the bed sheets as he turned.  
Severus smiled; a wide, bright smile that practically shouted his happiness. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispered just as softly and he smoothed the cool cream down the honeyed planes of Harry’s back. Yes, today would be a very good day.

* * *

So, here it is ... chapter seven. I hope that you all liked it. Thanks must be given to my wonderful beta, jiggnbatty, for all of your hard work and time! Also, thanks to all who reviewed ... reviews are the sunshine in my life :) so please leave me one, just to let me know what you think.  
Next chapter may be a while in coming, I'm not sure, I am a bit swamped at the moment, but I will do my very best ...  
Thank you for reading!


	8. Where is Harry?

  
Author's notes: ...  


* * *

The morning had progressed pleasantly for Harry after his initial _healing_ experience. After Snape had finished and Harry had hastily got dressed they sat down to a wonderful breakfast, which the older man had ordered from a house elf in the Inn’s employ. For Severus there had been scones, tea, porridge, juice, and a selection of sliced fruits. For Harry, the elf brought the biggest bowl of fruit salad that Harry had ever seen, as well as juice and tea. At first he had just stood and stared at the bowl. But when an elegantly arched eyebrow caught his attention, he sat across from the Potions Master with a faint blush. 

“I can’t eat all of that,” he informed his mate.

“Try hard,” replied Severus, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You will need to eat many servings of fruits and vegetables, at least for the next few weeks, to ease your transformation. The Abeo Venefici are intrinsically connected to the earth, and so need more fresh food in their diets than most ordinary wizards or witches.”

“What is this?” asked Harry, spearing a square of a tropical-smelling fruit that he had never seen before.

“Mango” replied Severus, “There should also be kiwi, pineapple, grapes, bananas, papaya, star fruit, apple, and some mixed berries in there.” He leant forward in his seat and surveyed the heaping bowl. “Yes, it’s all there.”

Harry nodded his understanding and popped the fruit in question into his mouth. It was good! And sweet. The rest of the bowl was gone faster than Harry wanted to admit, though he hadn’t managed to finish before Severus had reached over and agilely snatched a full strawberry from the bowl. The man gazed back at Harry unrepentantly while chewing his prize. Harry snickered and drained his tea cup.

Looking over at the newspaper that the house elf had brought in with their food, Harry reached across the table to grab the “Wizarding News” section. ‘Ick,’ he thought when he finger stuck to the page because of the sticky fruit juice that was the byproduct of his colourful breakfast. ‘I’m all sticky. I’d better wash my hands before I touch anything else.’ Dropping the paper, he rose and headed towards the washroom.

“Harry?” Severus’ smooth voice stopped him before he could reach the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’d like to wash my hands, Professor,” replied the dark haired youth, confused by the other man’s need to know.

Severus rose and moved to step around Harry and into the washroom ahead of him. “Go ahead then,” he said, shifting to lean against the wall, and gesturing towards the sink.

“Huh?” Harry winced inwardly. How was it that he was the mate of Severus Snape, the master manipulator of words and the possessor of the largest vocabulary that Harry knew of, and yet he himself was constantly uttering monosyllabic responses?

Snape’s eyes darkened and he shifted closer to Harry. “I cannot be separated from you at the moment, especially not when you are in _this_ room. Please, allow me this.”

Harry nodded and then looked down. “Umm … I kind of have to, well, you know, use the facilities,” he stuttered. 

“Go ahead.”

Harry’s head shot up and his eyes widened, a protest forming on his lips.

Snape moved forward and gathered his smaller mate into his arms. “Please. I’ll turn away and we’ll put up a silencing charm. I can’t let you close that door. Not now.”

Harry agreed, though shakily. Putting up a silencing charm, and waiting for Severus to turn and face the corner, he did what he needed to. Although embarrassing, it was worth it when he could feel the relief flowing down their connection. He didn’t miss the near-silent “thank you” that was uttered as they moved back into the bedroom. 

 

The next few hours were filled with conversation. Actual conversation. With Severus Snape. His potions professor. The great Greasy Git. Once Harry got over the surreal feeling of lying, wrapped in the older man’s arms, sharing information (almost) freely, he quite enjoyed himself. 

They stayed away from topics that were too heavy, or controversial, and instead spent the time trading nonsensical facts about themselves. Harry learnt that while Severus loved brewing potions, he did not enjoy teaching (big surprise there). Instead, he would have preferred to have opened his own apothecary or pharmaceutical store. Harry shared his secret fear of dogs and his love of old Muggle movies. He learned that Severus had once been allergic to a great many things, but that it was not a problem now, because as a vampire he not longer reacted as a normal person would to irritants. Harry confessed to enjoying chocolate ice cream more than most people but hating anything strawberry flavored. The most shocking moment had been when Harry had told Severus that his favourite colour was red, and the older man had replied that his was emerald green. This had left Harry gaping at his mate. Mouth hanging open, eyes wide; he knew he couldn’t have made a very appealing picture. To his relief, the dour Potions Master merely raised his eyebrow and continued on with their conversation. 

Hours later Harry rolled out of bed and headed towards the washroom, and feeling the spike of alarm from the man on the bed, he turned and waited for Severus to precede him in before erecting the necessary charms and using the facilities. Next came lunch, during which Severus presented Harry with a multi-layered salad, and ordered a simple sandwich for himself. After Harry had obediently crunched his way through as many forkfuls of mixed vegetables as he could manage, he asked the house elf to bring a tea service.

When the diminutive little elf brought the tea tray and set it on the table next his elbow, Harry thanked her and poured out the aromatic hot liquid. After pouring his own cup he discretely shuffled around the facts in Severus’ mind for how the other man liked to drink his tea. The information found he pushed a steaming mug with one sugar, but no milk, across the table and stood.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” he said, stretching his hands above his head and reaching for the ceiling in a much needed stretch.

“I will accompany you.”

Harry’s arms fell back to his sides. “No, it’s alright. I promise not to close the door.” He tried to sound reassuring and sincere. He was not going to shower with his potions teacher. His bigger, stronger, _male_ potions teacher. It was not going to happen.

It seemed that Severus had picked up on his thoughts because he stood and, taking out his wand, levitated a chair, his mug of tea and the morning paper into the washroom.

“I will wait as you shower,” he said, before going over and sitting in the chair.

Harry blushed and grimaced. He was going to be naked, in the shower, vulnerable … and Severus was going to be sitting not even a full ten feet away reading the news. He longed to say no, to pursue an argument to gain his privacy, but he could feel the trepidation in Severus’ mind, the lingering ache that their forced separation had caused. Harry sighed and ran his hand through permanently tousled hair. Fine. But he was going to think of some charm that made the shower curtain stick shut.

* * *

“How hard can it be to make a decent cup of tea? You did actually delve into my mind to find out the required facts, did you not?”

Severus’ annoyed voice drifted through the steam and heat of Harry’s shower.

“Er, yes?” he asked, confused by the other man’s irritation.

“Than next time, perhaps, you can endeavor not to put me into a diabetic coma. Being a vampire does not mean that I am completely immune to the effects of ridiculously large doses of sugar!”

“S-sorry,” Harry stuttered. _Next time_ Ha! As if there would be a next time. He was just trying to be nice, and he had only put in one teaspoon of sugar anyway!

* * *

“Pick up your shoes. There is no need to leave your discarded footwear in the center of the room where someone can easily trip over them.” Once again Severus’ voce was sharp with irritation as he scowled down at the pair of trainers that Harry had taken off when he had climbed onto the bed to read.

“They aren’t in the middle of the room!” replied Harry indignantly. He put down his book and moved to pick up his shoes. “They were practically tucked under the bed.” He stopped his retort when he saw the look on Severus’ face and quietly placed his shoes by the door. “Sorry.” 

Harry sighed. Arguing was not going to help anyone. And the tense atmosphere was not going to just alleviate itself. The dark haired boy brushed his hair back out of his eyes and looked longingly at the dour man who was sitting rigidly at the table, pouring through a daunting tome. Severus wouldn’t touch him. Not after his shower. Not as they sat side by side reading the books that Aerial had left for them about the Abeo Venefici, not even when Harry had asked Sev to pass him a tissue from the box on the side table. Nothing. Not a brush of fingers; not a nudge of a foot. If they didn’t touch soon Harry was going to go mad.

* * *

By supper the need to have some sort of contact with his mate was like a burn that needed to be soothed with ice. Harry longed for it. His thoughts strayed to the new memories of his mate’s hands on his skin, putting cream on his burns, smoothing the hair out of his eyes. As the hours passed he even began to long for the touches they had shared before; the angry touches when Severus had grabbed his wrist after he had messed up a potion, or the brief contact of a hard shove after he had looked into his teacher’s pensieve. Anything.

Without the contact Harry was going insane, and he hated himself for it. If the Greasy Git didn’t think it was worth touching him, then Harry shouldn’t care. Right. 

Supper was a quiet affair. They both had a light soup and some salad as the heat of the late summer had permeated the room throughout the day. Harry was nervous and jumpy. He could barely eat anything, but could do little to calm his nerves. Most of his soup spilled from his spoon back into his bowl because his hands were shaking too much to hold the utensil steady. After his fifth try to bring the spoon to his mouth Harry gave up and pushed his dish away. “I’m not feeling very well, I’m just going to go to bed early,” he mumbled, standing.

“Sit and eat Potter.”

Hearing his last name on Severus’ lips, yet again, stung. The fact that he had asked Snape not to call him that only worked to rub salt on the wound. Harry’s green eyes flashed dangerously when he met a cold black gaze.

“No. I’m not feeling well. I don’t know what you think gives you the right to tell me what to do all of the time now, but if I don’t want to eat, then I’m not going to.” Harry changed his mind; suddenly he wasn’t tired anymore. He went to the door and started to put on his shoes, ignoring the fuming vampire behind him.

“You are my mate. You will do what I think is best for you. Now sit back down and finish your meal!” Had Harry bothered to turn around before he slipped out the door he would have seen the Severus was not his usual composed self. His eyes were black, his fangs visible the look on his face was bordering on wild.

But Harry didn’t look back. He just stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, effectively cutting off the angry tirade. Unfortunately, he did not make it more than a few steps down the hallway before his mind was swamped with a barrage of information. Instantly he had a pounding headache and his vision began to blur. He could feel it all; the thoughts of everyone in the Inn, all of the magic working to keep the establishment running, he could even sense the misery of the house elf in the shop next door, who had dropped a glass on the floor and was in the midst of punishing himself. 

Harry turned, swaying on his feet and took two shaky steps towards his room before he was enveloped in cool, black darkness and he passed out.

* * *

“Ronald Weasley!” Ron winced. It was uncanny how much Hermione sounded like his mother when she yelled his name.

“Yeah ‘Mione?”

“Harry is our friend, and you’re not even worried that he’s been missing for two days! He could be anywhere. Death Eaters could have captured him and are taking him Merlin-knows-where this very moment, and all you have to say is ‘He’ll get here when he gets here’?” Hermione was worried; any logical person would be. But apparently she was the only logical person at the Burrow at the moment. Harry was supposed to have come to the Burrow via Ms. Figg’s floo two days ago to spend the last two weeks of the summer vacation with his adoptive family, but hadn’t shown up. And nobody was concerned! Even Mrs. Weasley had been content with Harry’s aunt’s explanation that her nephew had gone with his cousin and uncle on a fishing vacation and would be back for school. 

“You heard that horsy aunt of his Hermione. He’s gone fish catching or whatever. Harry’ll be here in a couple of weeks. He’s fine,” said George, clearing the remains of his Rook from the chess board spread on the table between him and his younger brother. He winced when one of Ron’s pawns swung his axe and clipped his finger when it got too close.

“Yeah Love, Harry’s fine. Plus it’s not like we can go and just get him. She didn’t even know where they were going.” Ron studied the board then beamed. “Queen to C-2.” All three teenagers watched as the black Queen slid across the board and smoothly decapitated George’s King-side knight.

“But that’s just the thing. Harry’s uncle would never take him on a vacation. And Dudley isn’t the sort to sit in a boat and fish for fun. Something just doesn’t seem right.” Hermione fiddled absentmindedly with a loose thread on the collar of Ron’s shirt. “Can’t we just go to the house and make sure that everything’s alright?”

Ron brushed off her hands, irritated. “Sure, alright, I’ll go with you tomorrow to see. But we aren’t going to find anything. Do you really think that Harry would miss coming here to stay with them for an extra couple of weeks? He hates it there.”

Hermione sighed as the two red-heads turned their attention back to the game before them. She didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, she wanted to go today. Something was wrong, she could feel it. There were just too many things that didn’t add up. Well, if Ron wouldn’t go with her, then she’d just have to find someone who would.

Wandering out of the kitchen, she headed out to the backyard where she was pretty sure she could find someone to accompany her. The yard was empty, except for the group of gnomes throwing pebbles at the bumble bees floating lazily amoung Mrs. Weasely’s roses, and the large tent set up in the far corner. Making sure to give the gnomes a wide berth Hermione approached the tent. 

“Professor Lupin, are you in?” she stood at the door of the tent waiting for an answer. About halfway through the summer Lupin had returned from his latest Order mission completely worn out with minor injuries and Mrs. Weasley had immediately insisted that he come to the Burrow until he had regained his strength. Remus had readily accepted, but insisted on staying in the tent so that he didn’t pose too much of an imposition. 

“Come in!” a voice called from within the tent, and Hermione ducked inside the flap. “Hermione, how are you?” Remus sat at his small kitchen table with an open book, a roll of parchment, and a quill with ink laid out before him. He motioned for her to sit and went to the cupboard to get two glasses and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

“Pretty well, thank you Professor. How are you feeling?” Hermione accepted the glass of juice that Remus passed her and took a sip of the cool liquid as the tired looking man sat down.

“Oh, I’m well enough, thank you. You know, I haven’t been your Professor for a few years now, you can call me Remus.” The werewolf’s deep brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and he brushed his grey-flecked hair off of his forehead. “So, to what do I owe this visit?” he asked, taking a drink from his own glass.

“Well, actually I’ve come to ask you a favor,” replied Hermione, sitting forward and placing her cup on the table. “You see, I’m worried about Harry and I was wondering if you would come to his relatives’ house with me to make sure that everything is okay.” The younger witch looked up hopefully, waiting for an answer.

“Of course I’ll go with you. Now is definitely not the time for anyone to be wandering about alone. Just give me a moment to get ready and I’ll meet you inside. We can floo to Ms. Figg’s and go from there.” With that Remus stood and began to roll up the parchment that he had been taking notes on.

“Great!” proclaimed Hermione, jumping up and stepping out of the tent. Finally, she was going to get some answers. Barley ten minutes later she and Remus were emerging from Ms. Figg’s fireplace and into her cat-covered living room. 

“Thanks so much Arbela” said Remus, clasping the older woman’s hand in both of his own.

“Oh, it is no trouble dear. Are you are you won’t stay for a piece of cake?” Hermione stifled a giggle at the look of horror on Remus’ face; Ms. Figg’s decade old cake was an ongoing laugh amongst many of the Order members.

“No! No thank you, we really must be going.” And with that, the pair was crossing the lawn towards the Dursleys’ front door. When they got there Hermione reached out and knocked firmly on the warm surface. No one answered. She knocked again. Again no one came to the door.

“Petunia must be out,” she said, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. What were they going to do now?

Remus cocked his head and inhaled deeply. “Nooo … there are people inside. More than one I’d wager.” At Hermione’s curious look her explained, “I have an advanced sense of smell. It also helps that the full moon is next week.” The younger witch nodded her understanding, and Remus moved forward and knocked forcefully on the door, rattling it in its hinges. 

After a minute of banging the door was wrenched open and Vernon Dursley’s large purple face glared out at them. 

“What do you freaks want?” the beefy man demanded.

“Hermione cleared her throat and answered, “We’re looking for Harry. Your wife told us that he had gone fishing with you, have you come back early?”

Vernon’s chest seemed to swell to an even greater girth than usual. “He’s not here. Now leave!” He made to slam the door but Remus’ foot prevented him from completing his intent.

“Where is he if he is not here with you?” Amber specks surfaced in Remus’ normally brown eyes as he took in Vernon’s aggressive stance and angry countenance. He took an imposing step into the house, forcing the fat man to back away from the door.

“I don’t know. Little bastard ran off, good riddance to him,” sputtered Vernon, trying to regain his composure. 

Remus growled low in his throat, and for a brief moment Hermione was very glad that she wasn’t the center to the werewolf’s anger. 

“Look you two, shove off. The boy’s not here. If you don’t leave I’ll call the authorities on you for trespassing!” In the midst of Vernon’s declaration Petunia and Dudley walked from the kitchen into the foyer to investigate the source of the yelling. When Petunia saw who it was she immediately tried to usher Dudley back the way they had come, but it was to no use. In under a second Remus had his wand out and the three where rendered motionless by a silent spell. 

“Where’s Harry’s room? Do you know Hermione? I didn’t go up when we came to get him a few years back.” Hermione shook her had, but climbed the stairs anyway, with Remus trailing close behind her. They checked all of the rooms. The first was obviously a master bedroom, the second must have been Dudley’s room, if the piles of food and candy wrappers lying everywhere were anything to go by. The third room was filled with broken objects and unidentifiable piles of junk.

“I’m sure he said that he had a room up here,” muttered Hermione, as she turned and descended the stairs. “Can you smell where he was most of the time?” she asked over her shoulder.

“I don’t know. Maybe; I’ve never actually tried to locate anything other than a person or animal before.” Remus closed his eyes and inhaled. Then inhaled again. When he opened his eyes, Hermione was a little frightened by just how light and amber tinted they had become. 

“Professor?” she said timidly. But the quiet man shook his head and wandered into the kitchen, giving Vernon a brutal kick on his way past the family. He stopped when he reached the counter, by the sink. 

“I can smell him here; he must have cooked often.” He continued out into the hallway and stopping to open the pantry and the cupboards beneath the kitchen sink, then he prowled down the short hallway and froze by the cupboard under the stairs.

“Oh no,” whispered Hermione. The cupboard. _Harry’s_ cupboard. This was not good. She watched anxiously as Remus pulled open the door and stuck his head in, and jumped at the vicious howl of rage that sounded a scant second later. Shocked, she could only stand frozen as Remus lunged at Vernon and, grabbing him around his meaty throat, demanded, “What did you do, you sick bastard? What have you done with him? If you’ve touched one hair on his head I’ll kill you right here!”

“Professor! Professor what’s wrong? Professor Lupin, he can’t answer, you’ve frozen him!” Hermione shrieked, grabbing the livid man’s wrist and pulling with all of her might as Vernon’s face turned steadily bluer. Her struggles did little to stop Remus’ actions, but it seemed as though her words finally processed because Lupin dropped his hands and took a number of calm, steadying breaths.

“I can smell blood everywhere, all over the cupboard. And fear. There’s a little bed in there. He slept in the cupboard.” Remus’ voice was barely more than a low growl and it rumbled up out of his chest, filled with fury. Hermione stood shaken. Blood. She walked over to the cupboard and ducked her head in, but saw nothing but a pile of rags. She turned and looked back at Remus, who was leaning against the front door, his hand over his face.

“Someone,” he threw a burning look at Petunia, “tried to clean it up, I can smell the bleach, but the blanket …” Remus broke off, he head turned away, his eyes clenched tightly shut.

Hermione nodded; she didn’t trust her voice just yet. After firmly latching the cupboard shut and taking a few calming steps away, she cleared her throat and said timidly, “R-Remus, we need to tell someone, Dumbledore; we should get Dumbledore.”

Remus nodded shakily, and straightened from the wall, struggling to pull himself together. “I’ll go floo him, you stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that he turned and quickly exited, stalking across the lawn towards Mrs. Figg’s house.

Hermione sat heavily on the floor, out of sight of Harry’s frozen family members. No, not family. These were his – his _captors_. Hermione sighed loudly. And if they were his captors, for all these years, and no one noticed, what did that make all of Harry’s _friends_?

No, she would not think about that right now. She’d think about it later, late that night when she could cry out the guilt sitting over her heart, but not right now. Right now she would do something useful. Getting up, she ran her hands distractedly through her bushy hair, and tied the lot up into a ponytail. Surely Remus wouldn’t be more than a few minutes … it was definitely very disturbing to be here alone, with those monsters, in the house that they did Merlin-knows-what to Harry …

Agitated, Hermione wandered through the kitchen and into the sitting room. The room was typical of Petunia. Walls a pale pinkish beige, sofa done in a horrible floral print, an in the corner there was a glass-paneled cabinet displaying the most ugly glass figurines that the young witch had ever seen. 

Hermione smiled a wide, devious smirk and walked over to the cabinet. She couldn’t use magic, not yet, as her birthday wasn’t until September, but she could wreak at least a little havoc in the Dursleys’ disgustingly tidy home. With relish she picked each of the fragile porcelain women out of the display and smashed them onto the carpeted floor, hard enough to shatter. Though the carpet muffled most of the crash, she was satisfied with the pinging sound the pieces made as they smashed into dust. 

Just as she had finished the last one off, she heard hurried footsteps coming up the front path, and the front door burst open. 

“Really Remus, let me assure you that young Mr. Potter is perfectly fine. I’m sure there is just a simple misunderstanding.” The Headmaster’s voice was sickeningly confident, and he was as calm as ever as he looked over the Dursleys’ still forms.

“Harry is not fine Headmaster!” Hermione strode down the hall to stand next the Remus and placed a hand on his shaking arm, hoping to calm him. Remus snarled, and she almost pulled back, before she realized that the snarl was not for her.

“Where is he?” the irate werewolf demanded. “If you know then tell us. I smell his blood Albus! And his fear. Something must be done to find him. And these people,” Remus turned his fiery gaze on the family before them, “something must be done with them. Abuse Albus! I’m going to report them, if you won’t do it.” Remus huffed out a breath and waited for a response.

“Of course, my boy. Something will be done. But first, you should know, Harry is perfectly safe, as I have said. He did not make it to the Burrow as with his birthday came his inheritance; he is currently with his mate. It is essential that he remain so for at least another week, for his own well being.”

Hermione breathed out with relief. Remus seemed to do the same. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t Harry tell us?” Hermione queried, a frown on her face. That wasn’t like Harry, to let people worry.

“Oh, he asked me not to tell anyone, my dear. He doesn’t understand these things yet. He needs a bit of time to get used to the idea …” Dumbledore smiled widely. “Well, now that that has been sorted out, let’s all go back to the Burrow, shall we? I’m sure that Molly is wondering where you two have wandered off to.” The older wizard turned to leave, but stopped abruptly at the sound of Remus’ low warning growl.

“And them?” asked Remus, jerking his head to indicate whom he meant.

Albus chuckled, and Remus bristled at the sound. “We’ll have to unfreeze them,” he said, as if explaining the concept to a very small child.

“What?” Hermione couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice. “We’re not going to _do_ anything to them?” Surely that wasn’t what Dumbledore meant to imply.

“I hesitate to take any action until Harry has an opportunity to give his input,” explained Dumbledore, waving his wand at the Dursleys, releasing them from the spell. Then he stepped hastily out the door, followed by Remus and Hermione, as Vernon roared at them about “calling the police” and “never coming back”.

“Fine,” said Remus, brandishing his own wand towards the house, “but until then, none of them will be able to leave the house for extended periods of time.”

Hermione nodded her approval as the three trekked across the lawn to floo back to the Burrow. Soon Harry’s horrible family would get what they deserved, and until then, Remus’ spell would keep them from escaping.

* * *

* So here is chapter eight. I am so very sorry for how long it took me to post this one. Circumstances beyond my control … But I hope that you enjoyed it, and I promise that chapter nine will be up in a much more timely fashion. Thanks for reading! And thank you to all who have reviewed!! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate hearing from you!


	9. Thirsty

  
Author's notes: a moment for Severus and Harry ...  


* * *

Alright. He could concede that he shouldn’t have yelled. And, come to think of it, yelling at _Potter_ to sit down, shut up, and listen, had never been quite as successful as he would have hoped. But really was it too much too hope that someday the foolish child would come to his senses and _listen_ when someone was trying to tell him something?

After Harry had stormed out – completely ignoring Severus’ own warning roar – he had jumped up and swept the silly boy back behind the safety of the wards. Harry’s mind just wasn’t ready for him to go prancing about too far away from his mate. There was nothing to buffer the onslaught of information on his mind that way. 

It hadn’t taken long from the moment that the door opened to the moment that Severus was slamming it shut with his foot, his arms filled with his precious (although irritatingly pigheaded) cargo. Nevertheless, when he had turned around from laying Harry on the bed there was a quiet knocking at the door. He ignored it once, twice, three times, instead choosing to rid Harry of his baggy t-shirt and decrepit trainers. Just when he thought whoever had been knocking had given up, Aerial was there, leaning against the bedpost. Her expression was disappointed, to say the least, and it irritated Severus to no end.

And now here they were; Severus sitting propped up against the headboard of the bed, cradling Harry’s now conscious, but sleeping form; Harry sleeping quietly, soaking up the physical contact that he had been craving, and Aerial sitting in the chair, studying one of the texts about Abeo Venefici. The room was uncomfortable. Severus didn’t like it. It was fine when _he_ was the one making way-ward students feel like idiots, but it was perfectly unacceptable when he was the one being made to contemplate his own mistakes. 

Aerial lifted her eyes from the book that she had been studying and gazed at the pair. Severus tensed minutely; her eyes were an odd coppery amber. Harry stirred and lifted his head from Severus’ chest, looking around in confusion at the agitation flittering in his mate’s mind. 

“Relax Severus, before you scare Harry anymore today,” the smile on the woman’s face took the sting out of the rebuke. “You shouldn’t put such importance on the colour of my eyes … you aren’t the only one who has learned to conceal your emotions. But if it makes you feel better, amber signifies irritation, not anger.”

Severus relaxed his tense muscles and dropped his eyes to the bedspread. 

“Now if you don’t mind me asking, what was it exactly that made it so hard for you two to be in the same room together for a few hours that made you leave, Harry?” Her voice was soft and gentle, but it was clear that refusing to answer the question was not an option. Severus’ vampire growled low in his throat at the implied force, but Aerial ignored him, instead she kept her eyes locked on Harry.

Severus tried, he really did. He waited for a few long minutes for Harry to answer, for the boy to lift his head and explain his foolish actions. But in the end the wait was too much and he hesitantly pushed through the connection between their minds to find out for himself. 

The initial happiness swamping his small mate’s brain was unexpected. Harry was happy because … Severus was touching him? Confused, he pushed a little deeper and it dawned on him. Harry was happy at the contact because he hadn’t touched him for hours. Oh drat.

Harry shuddered once when Snape’s mind contacted his own, then froze. Would the other man be angry or annoyed at the menial reason for his choice to storm out? But no angry outburst came and the strong arms that held him didn’t suddenly push him away. With a sigh Harry once again lifted his head from the heavenly chest that it was cushioned on and met the strange amber eyes that gazed calmly at him.

“I couldn’t stand it anymore. He kept snapping at me for these stupid little things and he wouldn’t … well … it makes me edgy, when we aren’t in … contact enough.” Harry ducked his head and blushed. It sounded so stupid when he said it out loud. 

“And did you tell him that you needed to be in contact with him?” The question was tinged with amusement, like Aerial already knew the answer.

“Nooo…”

“And why not? If I wanted you to hand me the book sitting there on the bed, which would serve me better, asking you to hand it to me, or sitting here and waiting for you to bring it to me of your own accord?”

Severus snorted, and Harry blushed harder. 

“And you,” exclaimed Aerial, pointing at Severus, “The lack of contact must have been driving you insane as well. What were you thinking? The first thing you should know about the Abeo Venefici is that we rely on the touch of our mate _to live_.” 

Severus knew that … well, sort of. He knew that Harry would have to have skin on skin contact to keep him healthy, he just didn’t know that the contact was quite so imperative. Plus, it was so hard to be close to Harry; even now he could hear the faint _thump, thump_ of his heart and the sound called to his vampire in ways that Severus would not admit.

Severus shrugged, dismissing the question. The warm body in his arms turned and he felt a small finger poke him on the chest.

“No way,” said Harry, “if I had to tell, you have to explain too.” Severus felt a frown draw his eyebrows together, and he fought valiantly against the urge to kiss the petulant pout off of the boy’s full, perfect lips. 

“I neither agreed to explain my actions earlier today, nor did I consent to do so in exchange for your own explanation.” But at Harry’s glower, he gave in and continued, “Harry, I am a vampire. I have been for a good deal many more years than you have been alive. And it was only just two days ago that I discovered that you are my mate. Your blood sings to me. I haven’t … fed in nearly eight days now….” Severus broke off and watched the understanding dawn in Harry’s eyes.

“Huh …,” Harry started, but was cut off by another voice from across the room.

“Well now … just look at the sort of progress that you two can make when you _talk to each other_. Look, I know that this is new to you both and that it’s hard to get used to, but it isn’t going to get any easier if you don’t address the challenges you’re both going to face …” Aerial swept a tired hand over her eyes. “Are you feeling alright Harry?”

“Yes, thank you.” At Severus’ raised eyebrow he conceded, “I mean, I’m still a bit dizzy, but it’s nothing horrible.”

“Good, then you’re both alright to work this out on your own. If you’ll please excuse me; I left a rather unfortunate man suffering from a peculiar burning curse downstairs …” Emerald and black eyes followed Aerial’s graceful form as she waked to the door. Just before she slipped out she turned back. “I think it would be wise to start a series of regular lessons for the pair of you together. They’ll be centered on you, Harry, and your powers, just to help you so that you don’t keep fainting on us all the time, alright?”

Harry nodded, and Severus inclined his head.

“Great! So, how about we schedule the first for the day after tomorrow and then one every three days after that?” Again her suggestion was met with two silent nods. “Good,” she said, opening the door and stepping through.

“Thank you,” called Harry as the door clicked shut.

Severus shook his head. He didn’t really like that woman though, truth be told, he didn’t like very many people. But something about her made him uncomfortable.

“Me too,” said Harry, breaking the other man’s train of thought before he clambered off of Severus; lap and stretched out on the bed next to him. Severus’ vampire shifted agitatedly. Harry was close, very, very close. His warm body was pressed up along Severus’ side and his arm was thrown across the older man’s waist. Large emerald eyes peered up at him expectantly and Severus slid down and wrapped his arms back around the boy without thought.

“I suppose we have a few things that we should discuss,” began Severus, stoically ignoring the burning thirst radiating from his throat. He could wait. He _would_ wait.

“How are we going to do this during the school year? It’s like two weeks away right, and it’s not like we can just stay locked in a room together all the time… Oh my gosh!” Harry flung himself from the bed and ran to the desk, rummaging frantically for a piece of parchment and a quill. Severus lay where he was and waited. The length of Harry’s attention span would rival that of a common gnat…

“I forgot! I’m supposed to be at the Weasleys’, I was supposed to be there like … two day ago … and then everything, with my uncle and then you. Oh they are going to be so mad…” Harry scribbled furiously on the parchment as he babbled. Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. Getting up languidly, he went and wrapped his arms around the boy’s thin waist. He squeezed tighter when Harry made a frustrated sound and tried to pull away.

“Let go! I have to send this – where’s Hedwig?” Harry stared at her empty cage, still struggling against the stone arms that held him.

“Relax,” Severus’ velvet voice calmed him instantly. “Do you really think that I’ve been keeping you here like some sort of hostage?” His tone would have been biting to anyone else, but Harry had spent too many Potions classes with this man to be offended. “Albus knows where you are, not to mention Poppy, and both have been in contact with the Weasleys from the first evening that you failed to arrive at the Burrow.”

“Oh,” Harry sagged in relief, “good.”

Severus chuckled, “Yes, ‘good’. Now come back and lie down before you fall over. You can write to your friends later and explain fully if you wish.”

Harry nodded and let himself be guided back to the bed. After his little adrenaline rush had faded the room had apparently decided to mimic a Merry-Go-Round. It was with a sigh of relief hat he curled up against Severus’ side and laid he head down on the firm chest.

“D-do they know everything?”

“No. Albus and I both felt that it was your choice what you want to tell them and when.” Harry was a little ashamed of how happy that fact made him. He just wasn’t ready to tell them, well, to tell _Ron_ that he was Snape’s mate. 

For a few moments there was silence, and Severus began to wonder if Harry had fallen asleep. But then the boy moved, turning to prop his chin on Severus’ chest and he found himself gazing into twin pools of jade. He could always see it in Harry’s eyes when the boy was tired. 

“How long are we staying here? And, right, the thing about school …” The tired green eyes blinked slowly and nimble fingers snuck to catch a loose thread on one of the bottoms of Severus’ black robes. The fingers twisted idly as Severus answered.

“I think that it would be best for you to join me in my chambers for the duration of the year.” Severus made a face, “There is no way in all that is magical that I am going to go anywhere near the Griffindor tower and it would be difficult for the both of us to be separated for too long.” Harry nodded then smirked. Now there was a funny image; Snape surrounded by deep red bed hangings and gold tapestries. “As for how long we will be remaining here, I had planned to return to Hogwarts tomorrow.”

Harry’s heart stopped for a second. It actually did; Severus shot up in alarm and pressed his cold hands over the quiet organ. “Breathe Harry! Dammit, what’s wrong?” 

His heart resumed an unsteady tempo and Harry shook. Snape couldn’t leave now! Not when he couldn’t even make it three steps out the door without passing out. If Snape left he’d be alone and – and … Harry heard an odd hollow, tearing sound and belatedly realized that he was gasping for breath, his chest burning with the effort.

“Relax! It’s alright you infernal brat! Steady now; breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out. Good. Slowly, that’s good.” Harry concentrated on matching Severus’ calm breaths, laying his head back down to feel the steady raise and fall of the other man’s chest. It took a while for him to clam enough to speak.

“I’m okay,” he said feebly. He could feel Severus’ disbelieving stare on the top of his head and soldiered on, “So I’ll see you on the first day back then?”

“What?” Severus was confused. What was the boy trying to say? Of course he’d see him on the first day, and the day before, and everyday up until then … Oh. Bugger.

“You misunderstood,” a cool hand stroked through Harry’s thick hair, “ **we** will be checking out tomorrow and you will be accompanying me back to my chambers, where we will live **together** during the school year. You forget that I cannot bear being separated from you anymore than you can from me.” They lapsed back into silence. Severus continued to card his fingers gently through Harry’s hair, nearly massaging his scalp. It was calming; his mop of black hair was soft and smooth. Harry practically purred at the touch and Severus allowed himself a smile. His mate was happy again.

“So … you said you’re thirsty right?” The muffled voice was unsure and shook a little at the end. It was, endearing, to say the least. 

“Mm hmm,” replied Severus, his impressive nose buried in the soft, fragrant hair covering Harry’s head.

“So, shouldn’t you, well you know … drink something?” 

Severus snorted a cynical chuckle. “What, you would offer me a drink of water? I need to find a donor or at least a large animal…” he shuddered at the mere thought of drinking any blood that was not from his mate. He honestly didn’t think that he could stomach it. 

_Mate’s blood! Just a little bit … he cares for you. It is yours to take! Mate. Mate. Blood. Mate!_ Severus’ vampire chattered in his head. ‘No!’ he thought back fiercely. ‘Not until he’s ready!’ But the temptation was so strong with Harry just lying there before him. He could smell the blood beneath his skin and it called to him like no other smell ever would. Severus clamped his teeth together with an audible _tick_ as his fangs began to descend of their own accord. 

Unfortunately the _tick_ alerted Harry to Severus’ internal struggle and the epitome of heavenly temptation turned in is arms and gazed inquisitively into deep black eyes.

“No, not water, you prat. I’m your mate right? So you can have some of my blood. That’s what the bond’s supposed to mean isn’t it? My blood is the best for you to drink or something…” Harry trailed off, hesitating at the open-mouthed shock that he read on Severus’ face. “Right, sorry, wasn’t trying to be an idiot … I don’t really know what a vampire’s mate does.” He turned his head away, obviously put out.

“You’re right,” Severus growled out, his voice husky and low at the insinuation that he might get the drink from _his mate_ so soon. His vampire prowled close to the surface, screaming at his to tread carefully and not scare Harry away with his burning need for the boy’s blood. “Your blood is the perfect sustenance for me. But Harry,” here he reached out, oh so gently, and turned Harry’s face back towards himself, “I won’t push you. We, er, I, can wait until you are comfortable for this type of step.”

Harry’s eyes searched Severus’ for long moments, as if testing the truth of his words. Finally, satisfied, he nodded slowly. 

“It’s alright. I – I trust you not to, well, do anything too bad,” he smiled slightly at his own attempt to lighten the mood. Then he tilted his head to the side, offering his pale, perfect neck for consideration. Severus lay frozen. His vampire was thrilled, elated to the point of being hysterically happy and was celebrating loudly in Sev’s head.

Severus nodded his head slowly, almost to clear it, and pulled Harry a little closer. “I don’t think that it would be wise for me to bite your neck, it may cause, certain reactions, that I highly doubt you are prepared for as of yet.” Harry and Severus shivered, one with fear of what type of _reaction_ would be caused by a biting, and the other with hardly suppressed joy at the thought of consummating the bond. Severus frowned, and resolved to address Harry’s reaction later. Preferably after he had eaten...

“Alright,” said Harry, attempting to sit up until Severus’ rumbling growl stopped him, “how do you want to do this?” He felt a bit better now. After all of the physical contact and a goal to work towards, his mind had cleared and he was relatively calm.

“Well, either I could bite your wrist, and feed from an artery there, or you could make a small incision at your wrist or elbow, to achieve the same purpose.” Severus’ lips curled into a snarl of distaste at the thought of Harry cutting himself. After a moment’s pause he had his answer. 

“Okay, y-you can bite my wrist then, just let me …” Harry swiftly rolled off the bed and grabbed his wand from the bedside table, as Severus watched him curiously. Harry waved his wand over first his right, than left wrists, mumbling a cleaning charm each time, before returning to Severus’ side.

He squeaked in surprise as he was swept onto his mate’s lap, and clung to a pair of strong shoulders as Severus settled himself sitting up against the headboard, with Harry cradled, once again, firmly against his torso.

Harry shivered lightly when a warm breath ghosted over his ear as a low, gravelly voice told him to bare one of his wrists. Thinking for a second, Harry stretched out his left arm; he was right-handed, so it would be better if his left wrist were the one bitten.

A cool, surprisingly gentle hand took his hand and Severus brought his wrist up to his nose and inhaled.

The smell was pure heaven. Even the tinge of fear that radiated out of his mate’s mind could not dampen Severus’ bliss. He inhaled again. _Yesss_ said his vampire, and the man could feel that part of himself practically purr with contentment. This felt so right. But … something confused him. Severus dragged his coherent mind back with a vicious tug.

“Why the cleaning charm?” he asked, not removing Harry’s wrist from in front of his face.

Severus’ breath puffed out over his skin and Harry sat dazed for a moment, wondering why he never noticed that his wrist was quite so _sensitive_. “Um … well, I figured you’d want it to be clean, you know?” he answered, resting his suddenly light head on Severus’ shoulder, pressing his hot forehead up against the cool patch of skin exposed near the man’s collar. Since when had the room become so cold? It felt like he was getting a fever again.

“Don’t,” growled Severus, “Don’t ever do that, you taste perfect without any sort of charm.” He lapped the underside of Harry’s wrist lovingly with his tongue to prove his point, groaning at the combined sensation of the heat of Harry’s forehead pressed against his neck, and the exquisite taste of his mate’s skin. It was nearly too much.

“Are you sure?” he asked, praying that Harry didn’t refuse; he didn’t think he could stop now even if he wanted to. 

“Y-yeah, go for it,” came the shaky reply. Instantly Severus’ mind switched; his vampire was in control. His eyes darkened, fangs dropped completely, even his senses seemed to heighten.

He carefully sank his fangs into the wrist before him, hearing the answering hiss of pain. _Mate! Blood, blood, mate, love, blood. Soooo good. Claim mate. Mine!_ the vampire chorused as a thick stream of blood flowed over his tongue. Severus felt himself swallow; the blood was delicious, better than anything he had ever tasted before. Better than life itself. But under the haze of his instincts Severus fought to stay still, waiting for the venom in his fangs to ease his mate’s discomfort. Because that was what was important; Mate had to feel good. Mate had to want to do this again. _Mate. Mate. Mate._

He felt it instantly when the venom started to work. Harry moaned and pressed closer to him, attempting to find friction for the tightness that had started to form in his groin.

Severus’ vampire smirked around the wrist in his mouth. Yes… Mate was happy. Mate felt good. Closing his eyes, he let the blood flow down his throat relishing in the taste, suckling gently at the wound. _Sooo good_. Snape swallowed again and again, then slowed, knowing that he couldn’t take too much more of the elixir pouring into his mouth without endangering Harry. With a sigh, he eased off the pressure and licked at the twin puncture marks to close and heal them.

When he was sure that the wounds had closed completely, he placed a few butterfly kisses on the wrist and held Harry’s body closer, stilling the wiggling movements that wracked the small frame.

Harry groaned in frustration and turned, straddling the thin hips of his mate, trying to make his arousal known. At first it had hurt. Then it was just uncomfortable. But after maybe four seconds it started to feel so good. And now he needed … well, he needed Sev to touch him and take him and hold him close. He needed to feel his mate’s cool skin against his own heated flesh and he pressed his head back into Severus’ neck as he rocked against the burgeoning hardness that proved that he was not the only one aroused by their recent activities. 

Severus panted and groaned, struggling to regain control. Now that his vampire had been fed, he wanted to claim his mate. _Now. Right now._ And Harry’s desperate rutting was not making his struggle any easier. Even as he thrust up to meet Harry’s frantic grinding, he forced his arms to move and stilled the boy’s hips, wrapping his arms around the too thin waist and pulling the smaller body down on top of his own.

Harry mewled in protest and bucked, so close to the edge that it nearly hurt.

“Shh,” a soothing voice whispered in his ear, “hush now. Come back to me little one. Shh…” Harry sobbed in a breath of frustration and collapsed against the firm chest beneath him. So close …

Severus sighed in relief, and disappointment, when Harry calmed, melting into his embrace. This was good. He wouldn’t take advantage of Harry like that, not when his venom was coursing through Harry’s veins, making him want things he might not rationally want. Not now … later, when his mate wanted him, Severus, not the vampire. 

So he sat and rocked his exhausted mate, whispering soothing words and reassurances into the tiny ear, listening as the frantic heartbeat slowed and Harry’s breathing evened out. After long minutes of silence Harry finally looked up, and Severus had to consciously stop himself from smirking at the flushed state of his mate’s face.

Harry blushed crimson when he met Snape’s eyes; he couldn’t have hidden his embarrassment if his life had depended on it. He had humped his teacher, his _Potions Professor_. At least he knew that Severus was in control of his vampire, seeing as his black eyes were back to their typical colour; the pupil had shrunk back to a more human size. But he was so embarrassed. With what seemed like an inordinate amount of effort Harry pushed himself off of the comfortable chest he had been stretched out on and curled up against the farthest bedpost. 

The pair sat in silence as a good deal of time passed. Harry concentrated on breathing evenly, Severus just waited, listening to his mate’s heartbeat to ensure that he hadn’t taken too much blood. Eventually Severus sighed deeply.

“Harry, I know you may be, uncomfortable, with what just happened but you shouldn’t be. The venom in my fangs secretes a powerful aphrodisiac, which aids in numbing any pain. Our reactions were to be expected.” Harry glanced up, looking slightly reassured, and allowed Severus to pull him back across the bed.

“I’m tired,” said Harry in a small voice, once he had settled comfortably.

Severus nodded against perpetually ruffled hair and summoned a light blanket, which he draped over Harry. “So sleep,” he said, watching Harry’s eyes slide closed. Yes, this was alright. He was happy; his mate was well, and in his arms. Severus couldn’t remember the last time he had felt quite so content.

* * *

So that was chapter nine, I hope that you enjoyed it. Sincere thanks to my beta, jiggnbatty, for all of her wonderful help! And thanks to those who reviewed. All input is greatly appreciated :) so please let me know what you thought of this chapter too. Thanks for reading!


	10. Travel

  
Author's notes: moving in ...  


* * *

“Mr. Weasley could you please pass the oran- Hedwig!” Everyone at the Weasleys’ crowded breakfast table jumped at Hermione’s sudden screech, and Arthur accidently spilled a good deal of orange juice all over his toast. 

“Jeez Mione, that hurt” Ron grouched, rubbing the foot that Hermione had stepped on in her haste to get to the window. Hermione ignored him, too intent upon relieving Harry’s large snowy owl of her missive. 

By the time she finally ripped open the small white envelope everyone in the room was waiting silently to hear what Harry had sent.

“Read it out loud, will you,” asked Fred, presenting a glorious view of the mouthful of scrambled eggs which he had been chewing. Hermione shot him a glare that clearly said that that was exactly what she had been planning to do anyway, thank you very much. 

Unfolding the parchment she read: 

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and company,  
I am very sorry for any worry that I have caused you by not showing up on Saturday evening. Something very important came up and I was unable to make it to your house. I just wanted to tell you all that I am alright and safe.   
It seems that I came into some sort of creature inheritance on my birthday. I have seen Madam Pomfrey, and she says that I am an Abeo Veneficus. I would tell you what that is except I’m not too sure myself. I also wanted to let you know that I won’t be coming to your house this summer because I have to spend the rest of my break with my mate … apparently we can’t be separated for too long, for some reason.   
I hope that everyone is well and that I didn’t cause too much worry.

Sincerely,  
Harry

P.S. I’m sorry to Ron and Hermione too. I’ll see you both on the first day of term, and I’ll explain more then. Enjoy that rest of the break!”

 

“Oh, the poor Dear,” Mrs. Weasley’s kind voice breaks the silence that looms in the kitchen, “I’d bet he didn’t even know that he had any creature blood in him.”

“He wouldn’t have.” Remus examined the top of his half-eaten muffin thoughtfully, “James and Lilly didn’t know either.” More silence.

“Er, Mrs. Weasley, what exactly is an Abeo Veneficus?” Hermione asked curiously, “I’ve never heard of one before.”

“Well you wouldn’t have dear. Everyone thought that the bloodline had died out. There is – was only one known living Venefica. But I suppose they were wrong.”

“I don’t understand. If there’s another ‘Venefica’ how could everyone have thought that the bloodline had died out?” To say that Hermione was confused would have been accurate; to say that Ron was confused would have been the understatement of the century.

“Abeo Venefici aren’t like other creatures,” explained Remus, in response to Molly’s beseeching look. “It’s true that the creature heritage has to be in the family for a person to be one, but it’s more complicated than with other creatures. Not everyone in an Abeo Venefici’s bloodline carries that particular gene. It’s very rare and only manifests in certain individuals. The species used to be more common, but their rather, unfortunate, history has pretty much wiped out all inheritance of that nature.”

Hermione and Ron nodded. It sounded simple so far.

“It would have been entirely possible for the bloodline to have died out while there is still a living Venefica because a Venefici can only bear children with their mate, and Aerialnaen Coamelnonin’s mate died long before they could have children together.”

Mr. Weasley started. “Died? How can that be Remus? She couldn’t have survived.”

Remus nodded his head sadly, and for the benefit of the four young adults in the room, he clarified Arthur’s question. “Abeo Venefici are immortal. The only known cause of death for them is the death or rejection of a mate. Aerialnaen is unique. No one knows how she managed it.”

“Bloody hell … Harry’s immortal” said Ron, ducking to avoid his mother’s attempt to smack him on the head for his language. 

“H-his mate accepted him right? I mean, he wrote the letter so he has to be okay,” Hermione searched anxiously for reassurance. 

“I would imagine so.” Molly’s answering smile was bright but worry pulled the edges of her mouth down a bit. Why hadn’t Harry mentioned his mate in the letter? Surely nothing was wrong.

Arthur stood and put his dirty dishes in the sink. “Well, I’m off. I’ll see you all tonight,” he said, giving Mrs. Weasley a kiss and striding off into the living room. A few minutes later the flare of the floo could be heard.

Everyone returned to eating their breakfast and Mrs. Weasley bustled about cleaning up her kitchen. Hermione quickly gulped down the remainder of her cereal and put her dishes in the sink as well.

“Need any help Mrs. Weasley?” she asked, hoping the answer would be no. Abeo Veneficus, Abeo Veneficus. Surly she had read that _somewhere_ before.

“Oh, no dear. You just run along. There’s not much here to do.” Hermione grinned and ran off in search of her Magical Creatures textbook. After that she’d look through one of her older history texts about the immortal creatures … and if she still couldn’t find anything she’d ask Remus. Flipping determinedly through her text, Hermione plopped down on her bed and started reading. 

 

Harry was sock hunting. He was showered, had eaten breakfast, and had packed. He was completely ready to go … except he had to find his bloody sock first. He had put a pair out on the bed when he went to shower, they had been there while he had dressed, eaten, and packed, and now there was only one sock sitting on the bed, and absolutely no sign of the other. Hearing a muffled chuckle Harry wriggled out from under the bed and cast an accusatory glare at the back of Severus’ head.

“If you have my sock I am going to kill you, slowly,” he said in his most menacing tone. 

Severus sighed and laid down the paper he had been reading. “If I had had your sock, we would have left by now. Why didn’t you just put them both on when you got dressed?”

Harry ducked his head and started looking through the drawers of the dresser again. “Feelsbetertohavebarefeet,” he mumbled.

“Pardon me?”

“It feels better when I have bare feet” he repeated, slamming the last drawer closed with a bang.

“What feels better?” Harry felt Severus come up behind him and strong arms wrapped around his waist. The touch calmed him and he leaned back, savouring the cool feel radiating from his mate’s skin.

“I dunno. I do, I guess. It just feels right.” Shit he was tired of this crap. Everything for the last three days had been strange and unexplainable and he was getting sick of it. Why didn’t the Ministry give out manuals when you came into your inheritance? It would make life so much easier. 

Severus “hmm-ed” in thought and pulled away. Harry unconsciously swayed back towards him before he stood straight and laughed out loud. Severus started and quirked an eyebrow.

Harry held out his hand and said “Sock”. The missing piece of clothing flew out of the bathroom and landed on his upturned palm. Right … he had brought his sock into the washroom to mend the hole at the toe under the strong light. 

Severus watched with amusement as Harry jumped around trying to pull on his horrid green and yellow sock. Really, why did the boy insist on wearing such atrocious clothing all of the time? Even today Harry was wearing huge jean shorts that reached nearly mid shin, a disgusting green t-shirt that was so worn that in places you could count the threads holding it together, and now a pair of trainers that looked like they had been chewed by dogs. Severus made a mental note to take Harry shopping when he could handle to crowds again.

“Shall we depart, or would you prefer to linger here and dally away the entire day?”

Harry winced, but recovered quickly and nodded his head, grabbing his trunk and striding a few paces to the door. But before he could fully twist the handle to open the door he was once again pulled against a hard chest.

“Umph. Ow, hey, what the hell? You said it was time to go!” Harry turned around and levelled an irritated glower at Severus. 

“We’re Apparating directly to Hogwarts. I can’t risk you getting too close to anyone right now.”

“Oh, right.” That sounded logical. But the only problem was …

Severus frowned as a look of trepidation flitted across Harry’s face.

“What’s the matter?” he asked gruffly, tugging the small body close again. It was horrible; he felt cold all of the time now. Before finding his mate Severus had become accustomed to the cold feeling that pervaded when you were dead, but after having his own little space heater so close by for the last two full days … every time Harry wandered too far away it felt like he sitting naked in the middle of a blizzard. 

“Could you … I mean, would you mind taking me with you? You know, like a Side-Along? I don’t think I’ll be able to focus enough right now.” 

“Of course, brat. As if I would have left you to your own devices for any period of time after what has happened these last few days.” Severus made a conscious effort to smile, to reassure Harry that he was not being cruel.

“Heh. That wouldn’t be too good, yeah? Okay … so can we go?” Severus smirked; to say that Harry was impatient would have been like saying that the sun was warm. 

“Hold tight” he said unnecessarily as he grabbed hold of Harry’s waist with one arm, and his trunk with the other hand. He checked to make sure that Harry had a good grip on Hedwig’s empty cage and then concentrated on the large tree at the edge of the Apparition ward at Hogwarts. With a CRACK they were standing in the shade of that tree. 

When he had regained his sense of balance Severus let go of Harry and started off towards the castle, levitating the luggage ahead of him. He turned back abruptly when he felt the distress flowing through the bond, and was met with the sight of Harry retching miserably on the grass. 

He was at the boy’s side in under a second and knelt down next to him after vanishing the breakfast that had seen fit to reappear. Beyond that he wasn’t too sure what to do. As head of Slytherin he had stood watch over many a sick student but never before had he been faced with the challenge of comforting someone who was ill - that was Poppy’s job. But the dilemma was solved for him when Harry leaned into his side and mumbled a soft “Thanks”.

“Hush, it’s fine. Are you alright now, or do you think you will be sick again?” Severus brushed Harry’s fringe back out of his eyes and pressed his hand against the scarred forehead. No, no fever and Harry’s eyes were clear and focused, so he wasn’t suffering from a dizzy spell.

“I’m okay; I just need to sit for a minute.”

Severus sat cross-legged on the grass and pulled Harry onto his lap; to hell with grass stains. Harry sighed and tucked his head under Severus’ chin. 

“Are you okay out here?” he asked, “It’s pretty bright.” Harry squinted speculatively at the bright sun shining beyond the shade.

“I’m fine for a while. I couldn’t be in the direct sunlight, but since we are in the shade and I’m using a protective charm I can stay out here for perhaps an hour.” Severus felt Harry nod his understanding. “Do you know what made you ill?”

Harry sighed deeply. “I don’t think that Apparating is going to be my favourite way of getting around anymore.” There was a surprising amount of bitterness in his voice. “It feels wrong … it’s like ripping through a piece of, like, the universe, or something.”

Severus “hmmed” speculatively. “We will have to remember to ask Ariel about that tomorrow.” Harry nodded his agreement and struggled to his feet.

Offering his small hand down to Severus he said, “Come on, let’s get inside.” Ignoring the proffered hand, Severus rose seamlessly and scooped Harry up into his arms. He definitely was not going to take the risk of Harry passing out again. Keeping to the shade cast by the towering trees on the grounds, Severus strode purposefully to the entrance of Hogwarts, Harry’s trunk and the cage floating behind him. 

He felt Harry tense and flinch closer to his chest as they entered to castle, probably feeling the years’ worth of magic in the stone walls, but as Harry said nothing he simply quickened his pace and within minutes they were in his chambers. 

After lowering the luggage to the ground and kicking his door shut with his foot Severus lowered Harry gently to stand on the ground, but kept both arms wrapped around his thin waste. 

Harry leaned back into Sev’s comforting presence and gazed about the room. It looked like they were in a sitting room; at least there were a pair of over-stuffed chairs and a long black couch. There was also a soft looking rug covering the cold stone floor, and a large fireplace with an ornately carved mantle. Turning a bit to his right Harry saw an opening the lead to what could be a kitchen, judging from the counters that he could see. And to his left there was a hallway that turned a corner, so he couldn’t see where it led to. Probably to the bedrooms he figured. 

Harry turned and grinned up a Severus. “Do I get a tour?”

“Do you feel well enough?” 

Harry thought for a moment. He wasn’t nauseous anymore, but the magic of the castle, and the combined pressure of the protection wards that he could feel on Sev’s chambers were playing havoc with his head. He was getting dizzy and his head was pounding insistently even though he was just standing still.

“No, you’re probably right. I can wait until later. Would you mind if I went and laid down to awhile?”

Without waiting Severus scooped the boy back up into his arms and walked down the hallway and through one of the doors that Harry had spotted earlier. “What’s wrong?” Severus asked, worried.

“Nothing’s wrong. All the extra magic around is just giving me a headache. It’s kinda pressing in on my brain or something.” Harry laughed and rubbed at his temples as Severus laid him down on a large soft bed. Harry noted the green bedspread and rug on the floor with amusement.

“Imagine that, Slytherin colours in _your_ room.” Harry laughed again, but stopped when Severus shook his head.

“No, imagine that, Slytherin colours in _Your_ bedroom,” Severus chuckled.

Harry froze. Again. It seemed that freezing in fear and passing out was all he could do now. But even as he thought that he curled down into himself, away from the hurt. It felt like there was a fault line rippling in his chest. And every time Severus said something like that, something that felt like a rejection the fault line threatened in break apart. He curled tighter and rolled to present Severus with his back. 

Cool hands ran up and down his back and Harry could hear shushing noises above the sounds of his own sniffling. But he did not turn around.

“Hush, hush Harry. It’s okay,” Severus’ velvet voice told him over and over. “You have to stop doubting me every time I say something. Or at least allow me to finish my sentences Brat.” Harry sniffled and waited. Severus _sounded_ happy … maybe he had just overreacted, again.

He felt a cool, hard body pressed against his back and calmed down. “When I said that this is your room I meant that if ever you need your own space, this room is yours to do with what you will. I put you in here to rest because I have a few heavily warded objects in my bedroom that would undoubtedly have overwhelmed you. I would be greatly pleased if, after I dispense of said objects, you would be comfortable enough to make yourself at home in my room across the hall. Though if you prefer to stay here, then I will understand.” Severus gazed into emerald eyes, holding his breath in apprehension. Perhaps sleeping in his professor’s bed at the school would be too much for Harry?

Relief bloomed in his chest when Harry turned in his arms and smiled widely. “Of course, I’ll be where ever you are” said the boy, his voice still a little rough from his scare of a few moments ago. 

“Good. Now rest. I’ll just be attending to my lesson plans that need to be finished in the study.” At Harry’s look of confusion, he added, “the study is down the hallway to your left. It’s the big room with all of the books.” Severus smirked when Harry slapped his arm lightly and kissed the boy on the side of his mouth before rising and sweeping from the room. If he spent much more time with Harry right then he didn’t know what he would do. His instincts to bite and claim were getting harder and harder to ignore. Settling into his chair in front of his desk, Severus wondered distractedly how he could subtly ask Harry if he could feed again that evening.

 

Harry woke suddenly and for a moment he didn’t know where he was and panicked in the darkness, but after taking a deep breath he remembered and calmed down. He tentatively stretched out his mind toward Severus’ to make sure that he was okay and frowned when he found that Sev was drifting (the vampire version of sleeping, he had learned) in a very uncomfortable position. Rolling out of bed Harry went to find him. He opened his door and wandered down the hall denying the urge to open the doors that he passed on the way to investigate. At the end of the hall there was light shining from under one of the doors.

Easing the door open Harry tiptoed in and found Severus slumped over his desk. His eyes were open and as Harry watched he blinked normally and gazed about the room as if he were completely awake and was only resting his resting his head on his lesson plans and staring at a bookshelf with his mouth open. Harry giggled at the sight and went over to stand next to his oblivious mate. When he was standing close enough to feel the physical comfort of the man’s presence he stopped and sat down on the desk and waited.

 

Severus was drifting. He knew he was but didn’t really want to do anything about it. He had lesson plans to outline, he had to disable the simpler notification charm and waking charm in his bedroom so that they didn’t bother Harry, and he had a whole pile of research that he had to do on the Abeo Venefici and their bonds … but he didn’t want to. Not because he was lazy, no; no one in their right mind would ever use the term lazy and Severus’ name in the same sentence. It was more that he didn’t feel like doing anything when Harry wasn’t with him. He had tried to plan out the first few weeks of his seventh year class, then had given up on that and had tried the second year agenda, but it was to no avail. He was distracted and edgy, so he settled for watching Harry’s dreams. And while the closeness that came from being in his mate’s mind calmed him the dreams were confusing. They were happy dreams … at least he though they were, perhaps. Harry was flying and even in his own dream Harry was an amazing flyer, graceful and fearless in the air. But the boy flew higher and higher and the clouds were laced with dark shapes, bodies and faces. As Severus had watched the faces had come into focus and he recognised Harry’s parents, Sirius, Remus, Cedric Diggory, the Longbottoms, an old man that Severus did not know. He waited to see if the dream would turn into a nightmare, but there was no fear in Harry’s mind, just a quiet acceptance. The boy just kept flying, diving and turning and swooping, no paying attention to the forms that followed him, not listening to their cries and berating. Try as he might, Severus couldn’t hear what they were saying to Harry and just as he was resolving to go wake the boy the dream shifted and Harry was in the Hogwarts Library sketching absentmindedly in a piece of paper. Feeling his head make contact with his desk Severus allowed his mind to wander elsewhere.

Just as he was reminiscing about his days as an aristocrat in muggle London he smelt something amazing. It was wonderful, and so close. Severus pulled in a deep breath and pushed his face closer to the scent … mmm, blood. Sooo good. And he was so thirsty. He pushed his face forward even more and jumped when his nose made contact with a rough material. Collecting his thoughts he inhaled again … the scent was coming from _under_ the rough material. Severus felt his fangs lengthen even as he tentatively licked at the material.

The sound of laughter snapped his mind back to reality and if he could have blushed he would have, seeing as he was currently licking Harry’s atrocious denim shorts. Straightening stiffly in his seat Severus adjusted his robes to hide his rather evident reaction to Harry’s heavenly scent and shot a glare at the giggling teenager. 

At his glare Harry quieted considerably and stood from the desk, moving to sit in Severus’ lap. 

“If you’re hungry why didn’t you just say so?”

Severus’ long dormant heart gave a lurch. “Ah – and what do you purpose that I say? Excuse me Harry, I find myself craving the feel of your blood pouring down my throat. Do you mind if I have a light snack? I promise it will not hurt, much.” Severus quirked an eyebrow and waited.

“No, you idiot; you can just say ‘Harry I’m a bit hungry’, and I’ll be like ‘Okay, go ahead’. Plus it doesn’t hurt after the first second.” Harry turned his face away and Severus was denied the sight of the pink blush flushing his features. But he could hear his increased heart rate and smirked. _Thirsty!_ nattered his vampire _Drink, go on, mate gave permission. Drink! Mate! Bloodbloodblood…_

“Harry,” he said, turning the boy’s face back so that he could meet adverted eyes, “I’m a bit thirsty, do you mind?” He kept his tone light and joking, but underneath a coil of tension curled in his stomach. Please say yes, please say yes …

“Okay, sure. Here.” Harry held up his left wrist and wrapped his right arm around Sev’s shoulders, pulling himself closer. He watched with wide eyes as the vampire took hold of his wrist oh so gently. He was perfectly still as said wrist was sniffed and then licked, again and again. Just when Harry was going to tell him to get on with it Snape bit and the pain lanced up his arm and dissipated. No it definitely didn’t hurt …

 

Severus was in heaven, his vampire was in heaven, and best of all his _mate_ seemed to be pretty happy as well. He took a few long pulls from the delectable wrist at his mouth and hummed in contentment. He inhaled, filling his head with the heavy smell of his mate’s arousal. He tapered the flow of blood to a slow stream and snaked the arm that wasn’t already hanging on to Harry’s thin arm around the boy’s waste effectively pulling the small body further onto his lap. He groaned as he ground up into the delicious softness of Harry’s bottom. _Mate, mate, mate, claim mine mate! So good. Make him feel so good. Matematematemate_ his vampire chorused at the top of his figurative lungs. And though Severus ignored it, and resolutely ignored his more carnal instincts, it was a trying fight when Harry arched down and pressed just where it felt so good. 

Severus pulled his mouth off of Harry’s wrist and linked the twin punctures shut. When he was sure they had stopped bleeding he crushed Harry against his chest and panted into the perfect pale neck of his mate.

He forcibly stopped grinding upwards and caught the protesting moan when he captured Harry’s lips in a demanding kiss. He wasn’t careful, he wasn’t coherent enough to be, and it was only after a few seconds that he realised that he could taste fresh blood in his mouth. He pulled away abruptly and cringed at the sight of Harry’s ripped bottom lip; his fangs hadn’t withdrawn yet. 

Severus started to move to go find his wand to heal the wound, but Harry whimpered and pulled him down into another kiss. And it was so much better than the first because he could process what was happening now that he was over his little feeding frenzy. Harry was making perfect little moaning sounds and was sucking on his tongue in all the right ways. The boy was enthusiastic and tasted just right – helped by the blood from his torn lip. 

Every time Severus attempted to gentle the kiss Harry pressed closer. He wasn’t humping up in a desperate ploy for friction anymore, but he kissed like his life depended on it. And Severus kissed back with all of his heart.

They sat there for who knows how long, just kissing and stroking each other’s faces. Severus marvelled at the heat that seemed to pour into him every time Harry moved, every time he suckled at his bottom lip, or swiped over his mouth with his tongue. But after a while Harry pulled back, just an inch or two, to breath; he was human after all. Severus sat and stroked over the trembling back as Harry panted almost into Severus’ mouth. Severus found himself taking unnecessary breaths just so that they could share the same air. 

But when Harry went to press his lips back to Severus’ he heard the hiss of pain and pulled back. 

“Let me heal your lip,” he said, his velvet voice only serving to add to Harry’s predicament. 

“No,” was Harry’s reply before he tried to kiss the man beneath him again. But again Severus leaned back and stopped him. “You’re in pain, please.”

Harry huffed in frustration, and then nodded knowing that he wasn’t going to win this one. He loosened his strangle-hold on Severus neck in disappointment; it had been so _perfect_. Harry had only kissed someone perhaps a handful of times before and this made all of those times seem like he had been kissing a Blast-Ended Skrewt. He sighed again when he realised that he was going to have to stand up. He may be ready for kissing, but for Sev to seem his current, state, so obviously was not something that Harry felt particularly prepared to handle.

Severus sat quietly rubbing his hand soothingly over Harry’s knee and listening to his mate’s disjointed thoughts. A swell of pride bubbled up in his chest at Harry’s apparent satisfaction with their little _make-out session_ and Severus snickered to himself at the though of what the student body would think if they know that he, the Greasy Git, had just sat for, yes it had actually been twenty-three minutes, and “made-out” with the Harry Potter. He squashed his vampire’s jealousy when Harry thought about the other two who he had kissed. It was perfectly logical that Harry would have kissed people his age, and come to think of it, Harry had had so much worse done to him over his short life. Still … perhaps Miss. Weasley and Miss. Chang had better pay very close attention to the exact quality of the ingredients that made their way into their potions this year. 

Severus could barely stifle his amusement at Harry’s very unenthusiastic thoughts of standing up. As if he was in any better shape himself. It was no small wonder that Harry hadn’t scrambled off of his lap because of the rather noticeable bulge that was currently pressed against an absolutely prefect arse.

Giving his head a rather forceful shake, Severus ignored Harry’s startled look and stood, with Harry still in his arms and strode over to the other side of his desk so that he could reach down and pick of his wand. Muttering a quiet “Episkey” he watched as Harry’s lip healed and the swelling went down. Nodding his head in satisfaction, Snape turned and strode off towards the kitchen; Harry was much too light in his arms and it was time to make sure that the boy had a good full meal, or eight.

* * *

So ... chapter 10 - I hope that you all enjoyed it. Thanks to my wonderful beta, jiggnbatty, for all of her time and effort. And for the new summary. Yes, new summary, same story, but at least the summary doesn't suck now :) Also thanks to all who reviewed - sunshine on a cloudy day!  
Note: I've always promised that I would try to update once a week and obviously my life just doesn't allow that all of the time, so new promise: I'll update as often as mentally and physically possible - and no less than once every two weeks. I swear.   
Hope that everyone is keeping well  
Steppenwolf


	11. Broken but not Ruined

  
Author's notes:   


* * *

Harry had eaten, and eaten, and eaten. He’d had salad, steamed vegetables, roasted potatoes, a serving of a new baked bean dish that the house elves were trying (to supplement he meatless diet with protein), and bread. For desert, under Severus’ watchful eye, he consumed the biggest bowl of chocolate ice cream he had ever seen until he was so full that he thought he might be sick. And even then Severus had coxed another three spoonfuls of the rich frozen treat into his mouth before Harry pushed him away. Finally admitting defeat Severus allowed them to move to the living room, leaving the mess for the house elves to clean up.

“Ugh. I don’t think that I’ve ever eaten that much before. One more dinner like that and I’ll be so fat that you won’t even be able to carry me around anymore!” Harry rubbed his stomach jokingly and sprawled on the large black sofa, moving to allow Severus to slide in behind him.

Severus growled low in his throat at Harry’s comment and adjusted the boy so that they were both lying on the sofa, with Harry resting against Severus’ chest in between his legs. 

“You could eat like that for every meal of every day for this entire year and you would still be ridiculously thin.” That comment came out sharper than he had intended and he dropped a series of gentle kisses on the top of the unruly dark hair under his chin to soften the blow a bit. Unfortunately his attempt at distraction did not work as well as he would have hoped. Harry stiffened in his arms and jerked his head away from Severus’ ministrations. 

“Look, I’m sorry if you don’t like the way I look, but I don’t care what you think. I think I’m fine!” He flailed about for a moment, trying to wrestle himself off of Severus’ lap, but a pair of unyielding arms held him stationary. 

“Hush now. You must know that there is not a single entity alive, or dead, that is more beautiful to me than you are. And you are too thin; I can count you’re ribs just by looking at your _back_. And although it doesn’t matter to me what you look like, you will eat properly because there is no way that I am going to let anything happen to you. Ever.” Severus tipped Harry’s head to the side with his chin and kissed the boy’s pale neck tenderly, listening to Harry’s confused thoughts. Merlin, the boy was more self-conscious than any teenager Severus had ever known. One would think that no one had ever called Harry beautiful before … Oh. 

“You are beautiful,” he whispered, taking the shell of Harry’s ear between his lips and caressing it gently.

“Yeah, whatever” said Harry, settling back into Severus’ embrace, practically purring at the attention being lavished on him. 

Severus ignored him, not wanting to start an argument; they had been doing so well since they had arrived at Hogwarts. Dragging his tongue over the pulse in Harry’s neck Severus shivered imperceptivity. Had he not just fed, he would not have been able to control himself. Even when he was full Harry’s blood called to him. 

Feeling his fangs begin to make an appearance, Severus stopped and stood abruptly, setting a very startled Harry on his feet.

“Come on Brat, I’ll give you a tour.” Harry pouted adorably, but followed obediently when Severus turned and started down the hallway.

“You’ve already seen the room that’ll be your space, so I’ll leave that room for you to explore yourself.” Severus gestured to the room in which Harry had taken his nap, and then opened the next door on the left. 

“This is my personal potions laboratory,” as Harry followed the other man down a set of steps he took in the pristine lab that was so unlike the school’s potions lab. Shelves of ingredients lined two of the walls and in the center of the room was a sprawling worktable. A shelf of cauldrons and other supplies lined the third wall below a line of what appeared to be potions texts. Severus stood quietly as Harry wandered about looking at things, staying away from the cleaning sink in the corner when he felt the itch of protection charms wash over his skin.

“You are welcome down here whenever you are compelled, though I will request that you notify me before you attempt to brew anything. Also a number of the ingredients that I store here are lethal if not handled with the proper care, and as such I would appreciate it if you were to inform me if you need something or cannot find a particular ingredient.” Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“You know just as well as I do that it’s bad enough that I have to brew stuff during _class_. The only time you’ll find me down here is when you lock yourself away all day and I come down to drag you back to the world of the living.” Harry stretched up on his toes to place a quick kiss on Severus’ lips before turning and going back up the stairs. Severus breathed a deep sigh of relief and followed him, extinguishing the candles with a quick “Nox”.

Severus showed Harry the study, the main lavatory, his storage rooms and the kitchen. He showed him where the tea and kettle were kept and introduced him to his personal house elf Sparkles. Sparkles did not stay long as her presence made Harry dizzy and he swooned on his feet before Severus caught him and carried him back to the couch. 

After a few minutes Harry recovered and Severus took him to the master bedroom. He left him standing at the door for about three minutes while he disabled the wards and charms that would disturb Harry’s mental balance, and then called for Harry to enter. 

To say that Harry was surprised would have been an understatement; he was floored. The décor in Snape’s bedroom was simple, masculine, and not at all Slytherin. The furniture was made of a dark wood and the bedspread was a deep navy blue. The rug on the floor by the bed was blue and grey and there were a few tasteful pictures scattered about, providing spontaneous abstract splashes of colour. 

With Severus at his back Harry walked to the bathroom and peered in. Like the bedroom it was simple and tasteful. There was a large tub, shower stall, a toilet, and a granite sink was a large edged mirror before it. Harry winced away from his reflection, adverting his eyes from the dark circles under his eyes and the pale, tired look of his face. 

“It’s lovely,” he said, hugging Severus close and tucking himself under the man’s chin. Contentment. That was what Severus’ embrace gave him, pure, unrestricted contentment. 

Severus agreed silently with the thoughts swirling in Harry’s head and they stood still together for a long while, until Severus felt Harry stifling his third yawn. Bedtime for the Mate. 

“Bedtime,” he said shooing Harry into the bathroom and accioing a pair of red silk pajamas from Harry’s room. “Attend to your needs, there is a toothbrush and towels, and anything else you’ll need in the closet next to the shower.” Harry nodded sleepily and Severus thought he was adorable with his eyes squinted against the light and his hair more mussed than usual. Ten minutes later Harry was fast asleep wrapped in Severus’ arms.

* * *

It was an exquisite blend of torture and bliss watching Harry sleep. The way his eyes fluttered behind their lids, the way his lashes rested against his cheeks, the way he murmured and snuffled in his sleep; it all drove Severus mad in the most perfect way. He lay with Harry the entire night, he jut couldn’t force himself to leave. He would finish his bloody lesson plans tomorrow for sure. Right. 

After the first few hours Severus finally allowed himself to drift, keeping a mental tab on Harry’s dreams at the same time to defend the boy from nightmares. But he didn’t drift for too long, just an hour or two; the temptation to watch Harry’s face in sleep was too strong for any greater period of time than that. 

If he had thought that Harry was beautiful awake, than his mate was truly astounding asleep. During his waking hours Harry carried himself almost stiffly, as though he was always ready to make the snap decision between fight and flight. Even at such a young age he was world-weary and cautious, though you had to be watching very closely to see beyond his façade of bravado and audacity. But in sleep Harry’s face lost its weariness and he became all soft lines and warm sounds. He looked like he’d only gone through the typical teenage troubles and come out the better for them. Severus longed for the day that he could make Harry look so relaxed while he was awake.

 

Morning came both too soon and not soon enough for Severus. Around eight Harry started moving around, stretching and cuddling back into Severus’ embrace. At nearly eight-thirty he opened his green eyes and let out an enormous yawn. When he saw that Severus had been watching him intently he blushed red and ducked his head into the other man’s chest.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he said, his voice muffled from the cotton of Severus’ robes and rough from sleep. 

“Who said that I did?”

“I do. I can tell when you stay close by when I sleep. I wake up feeling better from all of the contact.” Harry rolled to his side and tried to slip from the bed only to be restrained by a hand on his wrist.

“Where are you running off to?”

Harry mumbled something incoherent, even to Severus’ far superior ears.

“Pardon me?”

“I said I have to pee. I’ll be right back.” With that Harry stepped lightly to the washroom and slipped inside. Severus felt a spike of panic shoot through his chest when the door clicked shut and then heard Harry sigh. The door opened about half an inch.

“Stay out there and cast a silencing charm,” Harry’s disembodied voice told him. It was an annoyed voice, but not an angry one, for which Severus was grateful. It was really the boy’s own fault that he had such an irrational phobia of closed doors now anyway. Severus threw out his hand and wandlessly spelled the washroom silent. Then he got up reluctantly and headed out to arrange for some breakfast, but not before he indulged in the childish whim to bury his face in Harry’s pillow and inhale deeply. Shaking his head at his own foolishness Severus swept into the kitchen and called for Sparkles.

* * *

Half an hour later breakfast was finished and they were sitting in the living room waiting for Aerial to arrive for their first lesson. Severus was sitting in one of the comfortable over-stuffed chairs reading a history text on the complexities of vampire bonds and Harry was sitting in the other chair pretending to read a text on the powers of the Abeo Venefici. But he was nervous and antsy so after twenty minutes of rereading the same page over and over, he gave up and put the book down.

Severus looked over at him, but didn’t say anything; he knew Harry was anxious, he could feel the nervous energy practically vibrating off of his mate. 

Harry waited, and waited, and waited. He recited potions ingredients and their properties in his mind (which amused Severus to no end), he tried to read again, he even started to count the loose threads in the sleeve of his long-sleeved cotton shirt. Although it was extremely hot outside, it being the second last week of August, Harry had found that living in the dungeon with his perpetually cold mate had created the need for warmer clothing. But it was no use; he was too distracted to do anything. He just wanted to get the bloody lesson over with so he could curl up with Sev and go back to bed. 

“Why don’t you try practicing one of the new skills that you read about in your book?” asked Severus with careful disinterest.

“But what if something goes wrong? I don’t want the ceiling to like collapse in or something…”

Severus snorted then said, “Which is why it would be prudent for you to attempt something small. Perhaps you could try some of the shape-shifting techniques in the first chapter.” Harry grinned. Go figure Severus would have read the entire book before he could even get past chapter three. 

“Okay… yeah. Um, do you happen to have – like a stick or something made from wood?”

Severus turned and gazed towards his bedroom. A moment later a solid stick about the length of Harry’s forearm and the width of his fist came zooming towards them and Harry caught it deftly from the air as it went to pass him. 

“Thanks.” 

Severus didn’t seem to hear him and went back to his reading, flicking his page idly. 

 

Shape-shifting… The book had said that he would be able to shift anything of natural origin into any shape or form that he wanted … Right. Sounds easy enough. Harry held the stick securely in both of his hands, and shifted so that he was sitting cross legged on the chair. Then he concentrated as hard as he could on the idea of a wooden ball.

Nothing happened. He tried again, this time thinking specifically of a wooden ball made of oak wood. Nothing. A little put out Harry shot a glance at Severus, but the other man wasn’t even looking his way. Harry pouted then bit on his bottom lip for a while. It had been so easy with the bathroom door and the sock. All that he’d had to do was ask the object to do what he wanted and it had … hmm. _Ask_.

Harry concentrated again, but this time his very purposely asked the stick to become an oak ball the size of his fist. And then he was holding the exact ball that he had pictured. Wicked. He beamed and looked up at Severus, expecting congratulations of some sort. But Severus was reading and not paying attention at all. 

Huh. Fine then. Harry twisted the ball around in his hands. It was heavy and solid and cool to the touch. He tossed it between his left and right hands a few times, all the while looking for some reaction from the oblivious man sitting not a full six feet away. Suddenly Harry smirked and lobbed the ball at Severus’ head and stared back innocently when Severus caught the projectile without looking up and tossed it back. 

“Good. Now try to change its form.” 

Giggling, Harry sat back to do just that, when there came a light tapping at Sev’s door. 

“Enter,” called the potions Master as he calmly put down his book and stood to greet their visitor. Harry couldn’t help but feel jealous of the other man’s cool demeanor and unruffled appearance. Harry felt like he was going to throw up.

But then the door opened and nothing horrible happened. Aerial came in and Severus politely offered her a drink which she refused with equal politeness. Then they were all sitting looking at each other and Harry remembered to breath.

“I know that you’re nervous Harry, but really, this purpose of these lessons is to help you understand your new powers, and your bond with Severus. Truly, I’ll try to make them as painless as possible,” said Aerial, looking Harry straight in the eyes and beaming. Harry laughed along with her, and even snickered at Severus’ growl at her pseudo threat.

“Thanks,” said Harry, getting up and depositing himself on Severus’ lap, “You’d figure by now I’d be used to everyone knowing more about me than I do myself.” Severus’ arms went around him stiffly, and for a fleeting second Harry thought that he might actually tell him to go sit somewhere else, but then he was pulled firmly against his mate’s body and everything was okay.

Aerial flashed another brilliant grin. “So, I can see that you’ve got a pretty good handle with shape shifting. How does it feel to you?”

Harry contemplated her question, tilting his head to the side and scrunching up his nose in thought. 

“It was … really easy after I figured out that you kinda have to _ask_ it to happen. Why is that?”

Aerial nodded encouragingly at his question and replied, “Because what you are essentially doing is asking the universe whether it’s alright for you to be shifting the shape of the object, and the universe is consenting. Eventually you’ll learn how to shift things that don’t want to be shifted, but that’ll come much later and it takes much more energy.”

Severus tensed minutely. “What do you mean ‘more energy’? How much energy is Harry using to ‘shift’ things?” He didn’t want his little mate to tire himself needlessly, especially with how often Harry tended to pass out recently. 

“Well, I can’t really tell you that … but I can show you, if you wish.” Aerial addressed Severus but was looking straight at Harry, and waited until he nodded his consent before coming to sit on the couch next to the two of them. 

“Here, why don’t we try to accomplish two things at once?” Seeing that Severus and Harry both had no objections, Aerial pulled a small piece of clear glass from her pocket and expanded it into a hollow glass ball in her hand. She then handed the ball to Harry.

“So you’ve tried shape shifting right? And then equivalent to your wizarding ‘Accio’ as well correct?”

Harry “Mmhmmed” needlessly. 

“Good, now how about I teach you to conjure something from nothing?”

Severus laughed sharply before he caught himself. “It cannot be done, it denies all natural law. Magic uses what is there and does something to it upon the whim of the caster.” Severus had unconsciously slipped into professor mode and his voice took on the typical lecture inflections. 

Aerial shook her head gracefully; Harry wondered at the fact that not a single hair slipped out of place. 

“That is true for a typical wizard, but Harry is anything but typical. Harry is essentially natural law. When he has reached the peak of his powers if he wishes to create a whole new solar system he can. The only limit is the amount of energy that he is able to expend to facilitate his wishes.”

Harry gasped and Severus’ eyes bugged so far out of his skull that it was quite disturbing to see. 

“But don’t worry,” said Aerial soothingly, making placating motions with her hands, “he has about one thousand or so years before he reaches that point.”

Harry swallowed dryly and Severus pulled him even closer. Right, a thousand years. Right. 

“Now, if we could continue? Good. So, back to conjuring. All that you have to do is picture something in your mind. It can be anything, but in this case let’s use something small because we want it to fit in the glass ball. For an example I’ll make a star.”

Aerial blinked and a miniscule twinkling star appeared in the glass ball in Harry’s hand. It wasn’t too bright and didn’t throw off any heat. Harry and Severus gazed at it in wonderment until Aerial broke the silence. 

“Now you will not attempt to conjure something like a star until I tell you that you can, alright?” Harry nodded shakily, wondering where his voice had suddenly gone.

“It takes too much energy, and you don’t have the necessary experience, so you would probably end up conjuring a full size star and wiping out the earth. You would also drain yourself and that’s no good. You need to try something small, like water. Water is very easy because you have to be able to picture the exact feel of what you’re conjuring. I would bet that you know what water feels like. And it doesn’t take to much energy because it’s simple and common. Want to try?”

“Yes, please,” Harry whispered.

“Great. For the first time I’m going to help you so that you get the idea of what it feels like, and after that you can try by yourself. Also, I’ll show you what I mean about energy expenditure. Severus, if you could please make skin contact with Harry?”

Severus deftly slid his hand under Harry’s shirt and pressed it against his flat stomach. Harry shivered at the feel and Severus fought the urge to purr.

Aerial’s smile looked suspiciously like a smirk, but she didn’t comment. Instead she reached forward and took a hold of Harry’s hand, the one that was holding the glass ball, with both of her own. Severus growled and jerked Harry back out of her reach.

It felt so wrong for her to touch _his_ Harry. Like … like she was going to take his mate from him. Severus growled against, and bared his fangs in warning. _Protect Mate! Mine. Mate is mine. Get your own!_ his vampire ranted, and Severus’ privately agreed completely. When Aerial moved again he instinctively swept Harry up and suddenly they were both across the room in the corner, with Harry sandwiched behind Severus up against the wall. 

“S-snape, what’s wrong? It’s okay. Relax.” Harry was very confused; one minute they were learning about energy levels and conjuring things, and the next Snape was defending him from … what?

“Severus relax. I am not going to claim him from you. Calm down and come back here. I would never do that to you and certainly not to Harry. Do you not think that I of all people would want to preserve the sanctity of a mates’ bond? Come now, sit back down. I promise I wouldn’t ever take him from you.” Aerial’s voice was pitched low and soothing, and though Harry didn’t understand what she was talking about, he felt Severus’ back relax and slipped out from under his outstretched arm.

He stood on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on Severus’ lips and took his hand, leading him back to the couch. Once there he pushed the still rigid man down and clambered back onto his lap. He gave an undignified squeak when he was crushed against a stone chest, but didn’t fight the squeezing embrace.

“What do you mean you won’t claim me from him?” asked Harry, tilting his head curiously. 

Aerial sighed and looked pointedly at Severus, who glared darkly back at her and shook his head briskly to an unspoken question. Aerial sighed.

“How about we work on the conjuring first, and then when we’re done, I’ll tell you okay Harry?” Knowing he didn’t really have a choice, Harry agreed and held out his hand that was still clutching the glass ball with the star inside. Severus growled darkly, but everyone ignored him and Aerial took Harry’s hand. The star disappeared with the blink of an eye.

“Alright then, I want you to picture holding some water in your hand. Picture what is feels like, what it smells like, and what it looks like. Severus, while Harry’s doing that I want you to make sure that you both have skin on skin contact.” Severus nodded curtly and spread his hand possessively over Harry’s stomach under his shirt.

“Good now close your eyes, no, don’t worry I won’t attack you or him; it will be fine. Good. Now feel with your mind and find Harry’s core. It should look a bit like a pulsing light. Do you see it?”

Severus nodded and smiled slightly. He could see Harry’s core; he could see his _mate’s_ core. And it was beautiful, a pool of pulsing endless light that was all colour and ripples and sparkles and shine. He could hardly look away.

“Now Harry, I want you to concentrate on the glass ball and ask the water to appear inside. Don’t worry, I’ll help. Trust me. Ready? One, two, three … go.”

And the ball was filled with water. Harry shook it a bit and couldn’t contain his glee as it sloshed back and forth inside the glass.

“Sev! Look, I did it!”

“No, wait a moment Severus, don’t open your eyes. Did you notice anything different about Harry’s energy core when he conjured the water?”

“Yes. It was – less. Not dimmer or smaller though. It was just less,” replied Severus, opening his eyes and checking Harry over in concern. Seeing no injury or evident fatigue, he indulged the boy and congratulated him for his water, and even took the ball and shook it back and forth to see the water splash about. Harry’s grin was infectious and Severus felt himself giving an answering smile. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on a perfect cheek, just because he could, and partially to prove that Harry was _his_. Aerial just rolled her eyes and vanished the water.

“Good, now practice. Try turning the water different colours and temperatures. I’m going to make tea.”

So for an hour Harry practiced and practiced until he could conjure every type of water imaginable. He had created blue, yellow, green and pink water. Ice, snow, hail, carbonated water, and boiling water all made an appearance. And by the end of it he was completely exhausted and Severus drew the line and told him to stop before he passed out. Harry agreed quickly and accepted the cup of cool sweet tea that Aerial handed him. 

Leaning back in Severus’ arms and sipping his tea, Harry asked Aerial about her earlier promise to explain.

With a reluctant look Aerial began: “You know that there are many types of bonds, right? Vampire bonds, mates’ bonds, bonds of friendship, family, protection, marriage, and even slavery. And each bond behaves differently. For example, in a vampire bond, the vampire and their mate can engage in any number of relationships before they find each other, in fact it is necessary as the vampire must feed regularly.” Severus nodded and began to pet Harry’s head, running his hand through the silky hair. It was true; he’d had many sexual relationships before Harry … both out of necessity and to ease the loneliness.

“So just like every other bond, the Abeo Venefici bonds are very unique. How much of our creature history have you read, Harry?”

Caught off guard, Harry stuttered momentarily before blushing and admitting that he hadn’t read any yet.

“That’s fine Harry, I wasn’t expecting you to have read any yet, I was just wondering where I should start. At the beginning I suppose … The first thing that you should know is that because our race is so powerful, people don’t really know what to make of us. Originally we were treated as royalty, even as demi-gods, then as a superior race, and eventually we were taken as slaves. You see, unlike with a vampire bond, an Abeo Venefici cannot have any sexual relations with a being other than their mate. It breaks their bond.”

Harry froze. Pain ripped through the fault line in his chest and he screeched, “What? What do you mean? I- I’m broken? I broke our bond! Oh my god Severus I’m so sorry! Oh my god …” He started to hyperventilate. It wasn’t even his fault! How was he supposed to know and what the hell could he have done … and now he had gone and ruined the only pure thing that he had ever had that was truly his. Poor Severus…

“Explain!” roared Severus’ feeling Harry’s emotional pain and hating Aerial for causing it. If Harry hadn’t been in his lap he would have killed her by now for saying such horrid things.

“Harry. Harry look at me. It’s okay. Your bond with Severus is broken, but not ruined and It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. Are you listening to me? Because he is a vampire and such relations are permitted within his bond you are still mates. Calm, Harry. Breathe.”

Severus turned his back to her and gazed down at Harry, taking the boy’s face between his hands tenderly. He brushed away the tears with his thumbs and kissed the unresponsive lips. 

‘Harry, love, it’s okay. You’re mine forever and for always. And I’m yours. Breathe for me baby. Come on. In and out. Trust me; no one is ever going to take you from me. No one,’ he thought directly into Harry’s mind, still caressing the shocked face with his thumbs and pressing light kisses all over his mate’s skin. Eventually Harry calmed and slumped against Severus, grasping handfuls of the man’s black robes with an iron grip. Severus turned them back to face Aerial and gave her his best glare of death. His expression clearly read that, all-powerful being or not, if she frightened Harry like that again there would be excruciating amounts of pain.

Aerial inclined her head, her eyes a deep green and so sad.

“I am very sorry Harry, but you have to know. Your bond is not conventional but it is not that unusual. There was a period of time, just after the Roman Empire fell, that wizards learned that they could imprison one of us by forcing themselves on an unmated Abeo, effectively tying them to their will. But it did not mean that the Abeo would never find their mate, it just meant that when they did find him or her it was harder and more complicated to fully bond. When I said that I would not steal you away, I meant it literally. I am more powerful than Severus, and so could take you and tie you to me by force if I wished. It is like that for all who have lain with another, whether willingly or not, before bonding to their mate. You must be incredibly careful, for even after you are fully bonded, until you reach your full powers, a stronger being will be able to take you from your mate.” Aerial broke off and gazed tenderly at Harry, watching the silent streams of tears making rivulets down his face. 

Coming closer she reached out and touched his cheek. “Do not despair so little one. It is not so bad. I survived it at an age much younger than you, so you will survive it now. Plus, though there may be one more powerful than Severus, there is no one who can best me, and I would see you two living happily together if it took all of my power to make it so.” She leaned forward and kissed Harry’s cheek, then filled his cup with a glance. 

“Drink some more tea before you sleep, it will ward off foul dreams and will help restore your energy. It is a special blend of my own making, and next time I come, I’ll teach Severus how to brew it just for you.” Aerial smiled and Harry managed one in return, though it was still a bit watery.

“H-how can you be away from your m-mate for so long all of the time?” he asked in a tremulous voice. 

Aerial’ smile faded and the pain on her face nearly took the two men’s breath away.

“Perhaps I will tell you next time, little one, if you rest and remember to practice your conjuring. Alright?” Harry nodded and Aerial patted his knee and rose. 

“I will be back on Friday, the day after tomorrow, at one o’clock in the afternoon. It will be most helpful for you both to have read the chapter on the Abeo Venefici’s powers of the mind by then.” With that she waved good-bye and closed her eyes and blinked out of sight.

* * *

Harry and Severus sat perfectly still for about a minute after she had left, then Harry turned and threw himself against Severus’ chest and sobbed. They were horrible heart wrenching sobs that tore at Severus’ soul to hear. Nonetheless he sat and rocked Harry back and forth, whispering reassurances and sweet nothings in the boy’s small ear until the tears stopped and Harry’s hand relinquished its death-grip on his robes and took the teacup. Draining the healing liquid in two gulps he settled back and looked sleepily into Severus’ eyes, searching his face for any traces of disappointment or shame. There were none.

A small trembling hand came up and traced Severus jaw, his ear, his nose, as though memorizing each line and the tears started again, only silent and slow this time.

“Hush, my little one, hush. It’s okay. I’m going to kill that foul woman for doing this to you. Hush. Sleep.”

Harry’s head nodded and his eyes drifted closed, helped by the soft velvet tomes of Severus’ voice.

Severus stood with Harry bundled against his chest and went into their bedroom where he lay Harry down on the bed. Slipping away he went over to his dresser and rummaged around in the back until he found his one and only hooded sweatshirt. It was black and worn from use and age, but it was warm and Harry needed something warm to wear if he was going to sleep next to Severus without catching a chill.

Going back over to the bed, Severus helped Harry don the sweater, adjusting the hood and sleeves so that the boy would be comfortable. Harry barely moved, just lifted his arms and blinked sleepily up at Severus. 

However, when the older man had finally tucked him under the covers and was lying pressed up against his back, Harry’s quiet voice asked, “You own a muggle sweatshirt?” There was almost a trace of humor in that voice…

“About fourteen years ago I was passing through a muggle city, collecting a very specific potions ingredient when I caught your scent. Well, I didn’t know it was _you_ per say, but I smelt my mate. So I followed the scent into one of the large clothing stores … but I couldn’t find you. All I found was this sweatshirt. You must have brushed up against it at some point. So I bought it.” Severus kissed the top of Harry’s head as the boy giggled. 

“Sleep now brat, and when you wake up we are going to research a stinging hex that even Aerial cannot throw off.” And with Severus’ arms wrapped around him, and his dulcet voice whispering in his ears, Harry felt himself drift off to sleep.

* * *

Chapter eleven ... I hope that you enjoyed it! Thanks to all six people who reviewed (out of the 765 who read ... hmmm) your feedback in appreciated beyond measure. And thank you to my beta - jiggnbatty - for your time and talent:)  
Thanks for reading!


	12. Sign of someone else

  
Author's notes:   


* * *

Note: full disclaimer can be found in chapter 1 ... aslo the rating for this chapter is for a bit of a pre-slash scene ... I'm just playing it safe ...

* * *

Harry slept for hours. He slept away the afternoon and much of the evening. By seven o’clock Severus was worried and, quite honestly, thirsty beyond belief. He hadn’t taken any of Harry’s blood that morning because the boy had been so nervous, and hadn’t wanted to trouble him. But he resolved to wait; he wasn’t going to force Harry into anything and biting him in his sleep would bring about some very strong reactions in them both.

By eight o’clock Severus’ thirst was burning in the back of his throat and he had to find a way to distract himself. So he accio-d his incomplete lesson plans from the study and sat in a chair next to the bed and did his best to plan the first two months of the coming term. 

At first it was impossible. Every time Harry moved or snuffled or sighed in his sleep Severus’ eyes would be drawn to the boy’s small form and he would watch Harry’s dreams for long minutes to make sure that a nightmare hadn’t disturbed his much needed rest. But then, as Harry continued to sleep, it got easier. And easier, and easier…

Until Severus was jerked from detailing the agenda for the third week of February by an ear-splitting scream. For a moment he forgot himself and the vampire took over completely. Severus the man became all fangs and claws and hyper-awareness and super senses. But when the vampire realized that the shocking cry had come from the thrashing, crying body of his mate on the bed, Severus forced his logical mind to work and he went carefully over to Harry.

His mate was terrified; the feeling rolled off of him in great crashing waves. Determined to put an end to the nightmare, Severus attempted to slip into Harry’s mind through their connection only to realize that he couldn’t. 

Severus had the Potions Master’s equivalent of a panic attack. He called Harry’s name insistently, held his flailing arms, shook him lightly, and when all of that didn’t work he yelled. He was distraught over not being connected to his mate’s mind anymore, and worried over Harry not waking up. It really wasn’t his fault that he yelled … such questionable things …

Beyond the ringing in his ears Severus could hear snippets of his own voice, “Wake up … foolish, stupid, ignorant … how difficult can it be … Harry! … idiotic brat … what is WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Harry’s eyes flew open at the last tirade and he cringed away from Severus’ shaking, grasping hands and rolled swiftly off of the bed. The room went silent and as much as he longed to go gather his mate in his arms and hold him safe from all danger, Severus found himself frozen in place.

Harry’s green eyes were filled with tears, his face a study in pain, and his mouth worked open and closed a few times silently before he whispered “Everything” and fled from the room. 

And to his horror, Severus found that he could not move to follow; he was completely immobile. Whether intentionally or not, Harry had made sure that he could not move at all.

* * *

Harry ran without thinking, the shadows of his nightmare chasing behind him. He ran down the hall and through the living room and didn’t even stop to think before he threw open the door and ran down the dark hallways of the dungeon. He ignored the abrasive pressure on his mind caused by the wards on the castle, ignored the light-headed wooziness that crept into his stomach and chest, and pretended to ignore the fact that no one was following him. No one at all. Not even an angry vampire or a concerned mate …

He made it to the library before his legs wouldn’t hold him anymore and collapsed against a bookshelf. It was strange, being in the school during the summer. There was no Filch or Mrs. Norris to avoid, no patrolling prefects to send him back to bed. It was so … quiet.

Harry sighed and wrapped his arms around his legs, bringing his knees to his chest. It had been horrible. If he’d thought that having Voldemort in his head was bad before, it was unbearable now. 

The dream had started out like any other; he’d been flying high above the clouds and was chasing a small blue snitch. Because of all the clouds the flittering little ball had been even more illusive than usual and it had taken all of his concentration just to follow its random flight path. Then, just as he’d been about to catch it, it had happened. Suddenly _he_ was in his mind and Harry found himself looking over a pile of bodies; women, children, men, all with gaping faces and blank eyes. And Voldemort was whispering right into his head.

It was horrible and painful and it felt like someone was hammering into his skull with an ice pick. No one belonged in his mind other than Severus. So he pushed against him and threw up the strongest barrier that he could but he could feel it slipping, could feel the slimy, serpentine presence in his mind.

He’d tried calling out for help but couldn’t make a sound. And all the while a hissing laughter echoed in his ears.

_“Oh Potter, what is this? You’ve found yourself a mate! You – a mate? What poor soul would bind themselves to a weak, pathetic child like you? Who is it … who would want you?”_

All he’d been able to think, all that he could do was think “No” over and over, wishing desperately that Voldemort wouldn’t be able to see who his mate was. And that’s what’d been happening; Voldemort digging forcefully through his mind, sending waves of pain wracking through his body, when suddenly he was awake and Severus was shouting at the top of his very considerable lungs “What is wrong with you?!”

So he’d run and here he was, sitting on a cold stone floor, with a pounding head and a woozy stomach, just sitting. Alone. Without Severus because Severus hadn’t followed him …

Harry shook and shivered; there was way too much magic floating around out here for him to handle. He trembled, his muscles tensing against the pressure on his mind. He needed Severus to help shield him from this sort of onslaught … according to one of the books anyway.

Why had he run so far from the dungeon? He couldn’t get back to the rooms now even if he tried, it was all too much. And just as he felt the fuzziness of unconsciousness creeping into his mind, it clicked.

When he woken up to Severus shaking him and yelling at him, he’d thought “Stop” with all of his will. As the cold stone floor rose to meet him, Harry sighed, and concentrated on one word; “Move”.

* * *

Severus strained and pushed and tried with all of his considerable strength to move, to follow after Harry. But he did not budge an inch. He could feel the fear and pain through the now-open link, but could not communicate with Harry at all. After the first few minutes, he was drenched in sweat and panting intensely, though the panting was more out of habit rather than necessity. The parameters of the stasis that Harry had put him in were unmoving and unyielding, but he did not stop trying. If anything, he increased his efforts as Harry became increasingly more distraught and overwhelmed outside of the carefully placed shielding wards on Severus’ personal chambers.

Then suddenly he was moving, and barely managed to avoid crashing into the far wall of the bedroom in his momentum. Not sparing a second, he raced down the corridors and followed his mate’s scent to the library, where he found a once again unconscious Harry slumped on the floor. 

Checking to ensure that Harry was uninjured, Severus scooped him up and carried him back to _their_ chambers. Lying the still form back down on the bed, Severus curled protectively around Harry’s slim frame. He carded his hand through wild black hair and studied the motionless face. No more; Harry wouldn’t have anymore nightmares, even if it meant the Severus had to watch every minute of every tedious flying dream for the rest of their lives.

* * *

Harry woke slowly and carefully. He could feel Severus’ body behind his own and did not want to alert the other man to his consciousness. He kept his breathing even and slow and tried to keep his mind empty. By the time he had cracked one eye open he was quite proud of himself for his little successful deception … until Severus tightened the arm that was currently wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer.

“How are you feeling?”

Harry sighed in defeat and rolled over, wincing as the pain in his head surged with the movement. 

“Like someone drove over my head with a truck.” Harry knew his tone was sharp, and almost expected a reprimand for his impertinence, but he was angry. He’d had Voldemort _in his mind_ last night, had struggled to keep the identity of his _mate_ from being discovered and had suffered for it, only to wake up to said _mate_ screaming at his at the top of his lungs. So let Severus be annoyed, Harry had the right to be angry.

Without another word, Harry extricated himself from the arms wrapped around his body, and walked swiftly, if not a bit stiffly, to the washroom. Where he closed and locked the door, then took a long hot shower. He didn’t ward the door shut, but Merlin help him, if Severus dared to come in uninvited he would wither away before Harry let him drink his blood again. Severus didn’t come in. And though Harry could feel the barely constrained panic flashing in Severus’ mind he didn’t invite him in either. Oh well. 

When Harry emerged from the washroom with a towel wrapped securely around his body he found an ill looking Potions Master sitting on their freshly made bed. Harry ignored the relief that shone from the other man’s face and collected his clothes and returned to the washroom to dress. When he emerged Severus was still sitting in the exact same spot, his hands clenched tightly together. Not even sparing him a glance, Harry headed for the door.

“Wait, please.”

Harry stopped and turned with an impatient look on his face. “What?”

“Please, allow me to explain … to apologize.” Harry had never heard Severus sound so vulnerable before, and his resolve melted just a little bit. He sighed and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Harry didn’t want to talk about it, he just wanted to go have breakfast and read the stupid chapter of the bloody book that Aerial had left. But apparently Severus had other plans because when Harry turned and went to the kitchen to find something to eat he followed him and continued.

“It is not fine. I hurt you yesterday and for that I am extremely sorry. I had been working through some of my lesson plans and your nightmare took me by surprise. When I attempted to wake you I realized that our link had closed and I reacted … poorly. I did not mean what I said …” Severus gazed at Harry, not daring to delve into the boy’s mind, but hoping fervently that Harry would listen.

Harry sighed again and dragged a hand over his face. Why was he so tired all of the freaking time now? Still not meeting the onyx eyes that were boring into his head, Harry hauled himself up to sit on the counter. 

“Look, it’s okay. I forgive you alright?” Harry shook his head back and forth trying to relieve the tension in his neck.

“I just wasn’t expecting to be woken up like that … It wasn’t a nightmare. I get these, visions, every once in a while. They’re of Voldemort … you know that though right? From fifth year when we went to the Ministry…” Harry trailed off, trying not to dwell on the memories of the end of his fifth year. No, it would not do to add that on top of everything else right now.

“Do you have like a pain potion or anything? My head is killing me.” Severus frowned and nodded, striding from the room and returning a minute later with a small vial. Harry took the potion gratefully and gulped the contents down. It didn’t help. At all. Ba dum, ba dum … his heart beat continued to beat like a double base drum in his ears and if anything the throbbing in his temples amplified. 

“Oh my god. Make it stop.” Harry grabbed his head with his hands and pulled his legs up onto the counter so that he could sit cross-legged and rest his elbows on his knees.

 

Severus was next to him in a second, his cool hands pressed against Harry’s forehead, soothing the boy with the simple touch. 

“What’s wrong? Did the potion not work?” Severus asked, concerned. The potion should have worked; he had brewed it himself. 

“No” moaned Harry, pressing his head into Severus’ hands and clutching at the other man’s arms. 

Severus scowled. ‘ _Mate in pain! Help Mate, mate, mate. Help!’_ screeched his vampire. And though Severus wanted desperately to do just that, he didn’t know what was wrong.

He was pulled back into focus when Harry whimpered and leaned heavily against him. Picking the boy up and carrying him to the couch, Severus pushed gently into Harry’s mind … where he found a … hole. He sat with Harry cradled on his lap and examined the, wound, in his mate’s mind. 

The “hole” was like a jagged slash and was located within Harry’s magical energy. It looked as though a part of the boy’s energy had been grabbed and ripped off brutally. Severus growled low in his throat when he came across the feeling of another person _in_ Harry’s mind. 

Prodding tenderly at the wound, he made comforting shushing sounds when Harry cried out. The magical signature was familiar … it was strong and potent and … Voldemort!

“Harry, love, last night, during your vision, was Voldemort in your mind?” Severus tightened his embrace when Harry nodded shakily and brushed away the tears that spilled from those tired green eyes with his thumb. 

‘ _Mine! Mate mine! Claim mate mine! Kill other. Kill, kill, kill. Don’t touch my mate!’_ roared his vampire and Severus suddenly understood what had happened. When Voldemort had entered Harry’s mind he had interfered with the bond, and by leaving traces of his own magic signature, was still interfering. Harry was in pain because while Voldemort’s presence lingered in his mind he was not able to connect fully with his mate.

Severus brushed Harry’s hair off of his sweaty forehead and felt his heart twinge at the way that the boy leaned into his touch, even when he was angry and in pain. 

“Love, I think that the Dark Lord’s connection to you is upsetting our bond. I’m going to bite you to re-establish my claim. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded and then frowned. “You haven’t fed in a while … should do that too.” Then he lifted his wrist and offered it to Severus.

Severus’ vampire purred with satisfaction and the man found himself agreeing. He was _thirsty_ and Harry smelt divine. 

Taking the wrist carefully in his hand he licked over the major artery once, then twice, to clean the area before he sank his fangs in. ‘ _Blood, blood, good. Soooo good! Mate, mate, mate claim mate!_ ’ his vampire chattered happily in his head as Severus swallowed the rich, warm liquid pouring into his mouth.

The he felt it. It was like a little _click_ in the back of his mind and he was flooded with Harry’s thoughts and feelings. Yesss … this was how it is supposed to be. His mind and Harry’s melded perfectly together.

Drinking from Harry was a surreal experience for Severus. His vampire had most of the control, but he could still observe and feel things that happened around him. Like now, as he listened to his vampire chattering away happily and felt the slide of the blood down his throat, Severus was absently aware of Harry curling into him and rubbing brazenly against his aching erection. He was also painfully aware of just how aroused he was. Even as he decided that he had to stop this before he did something the Harry was not ready for, Severus felt himself thrusting up reflexively against Harry’s perfect ass.

He pulled his mouth off of Harry’s wrist carefully and laved the twin wounds with his tongue until they healed. With the intention to put some distance between them, Severus began to lift Harry off of him, but was stopped when the boy turned suddenly and straddled his legs.

And oh, that felt so incredibly good.

“H-harry, we can’t,” he objected, even as he cupped his mate’s exquisite bottom and pulled his head forward for a kiss.

And suddenly he didn’t care that it was wrong. Because all that mattered was Harry’s mouth on his, his perfectly soft moans and whimpers that brushed against Severus’ ear, his hands that burnt a trail on Severus’ stomach where they were exploring. And most important of all was the fantastic friction of their two erections rubbing against each other. Even with the layers of fabric separating them, it was the best feeling that Severus had ever felt. He groaned when Harry pulled away from their desperate kiss and gasped when he saw the pure lust written on Harry’s flushed face.

Pushing back against the seat of the couch Severus spread his legs a bit wider to gain the leverage to thrust up against Harry faster and harder.

He was rewarded when Harry let loose a gasp of his own and pressed his fevered cheek against Severus’, whispering hotly in his ear “Yes … oh yes, that’s it … harder … mmm … gods Sev … right there … huh, oh … Yes!”

Severus wrapped both of his arms tightly around Harry’s back and pulled the spasming boy closer as he came, still thrusting towards his own release.

And then he was there, right on the edge. And he was surrounded by the smell and feel and thought of Harry and he came with a grunt and a long groan.

 

The pair sat together in silence for a long time. So long, in fact, that Severus thought that Harry might have fallen asleep. The boy’s head was resting on his shoulder, and his face was pressed against his neck. It felt divine. Severus had never felt so close to anyone, ever. He decided that he could just stay here like this forever … until the uncomfortably sticky mess in his trousers reminded him that a cleaning spell or two would not go amiss. 

Shifting slightly Severus lay out on the couch, bringing Harry to lie flat out, spread over his chest. Sleepy green eyes blinked up at him confused, until Severus waved his hand over them and non-verbally spelled them cleaned. Harry smiled and tucked his head back down on Severus’ chest.

“I’m not squishing you am I?” asked Harry after a minute.

Severus ruffled his hair and chuckled. “No. There could be five more of you on top of me and it wouldn’t make a difference, brat. How is your head now?”

“Fine. Great, all better really. Thanks.”

For some reason Severus found this particularly funny and Harry listened to his laugh rumble through his chest.

“You’re thanking _me_ after that? It should be me thanking you.” Severus took Harry’s face between his hands and tilted the boy’s head up so that he could look him in the eyes.

“Are you alright with what just happened?” he asked solemnly, searching Harry’s eyes and mind for traces of anger or disappointment.

Harry brought a warm hand to Severus face and traced his jaw with one thin finger. 

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, and Severus believed him.

“But I’m not ready to go further than that yet,” continued Harry, lowering his eyes, suddenly shy.

Severus couldn’t resist that temptation, so he lifted his head and kissed Harry softly for a moment.

“Your pace,” he promised as they pulled apart. 

Harry smiled and stretched. “Hmm … I can’t believe how much better that feels. What was wrong with our link, thing?” Harry stood and helped Severus up too. Together they walked to the kitchen, where they found a full breakfast try on the counter.

“It looked like because the Dark Lord was in your mind last night, he left a trace of himself there, and it was preventing our minds from connecting like you need them to. So when I bit you, it re-asserted my claim as your mate and removed his magical signature from your mind,” explained Severus as they each took their respective breakfasts and sat down at the kitchen table to eat. 

“Oh,” said Harry quietly. Severus raised an eyebrow at his suddenly quiet demeanor, but did not ask. Instead he focused on buttering his toast and drinking his tea.

“What do you plan on doing today?”

Harry thankfully chewed his mouthful of blueberry muffin before he answered, “I have to read that chapter on the Abeo mind powers, and I have to practice shifting stuff a bit, and I should write to Hermione and Ron … That’s about it I think. You?”

“I have some brewing to do and then some research on the requirements of your type of bond …”

They finished they’re breakfast in a companionable silence, and stacked their dishes on the try for Sparkles to deal with later. Severus wandered into his study for his potions journal, leaving Harry looking over the requested chapter. When he emerged from collecting his notes, he was surprised to find Harry leaning against the wall with his book in hand, next to the door to the potions lab.

Harry fidgeted nervously under Severus’ gaze. “Can come down with you? I swear I’ll be quiet.”

* * *

“Professor Lupin? Do you have a minute?” asked Hermione, tapping lightly on the opening to the werewolf’s tent. A shadow moved into the main room of the tent and she stepped through when Remus waved her in.

“Of course, Hermione. How are you?” Remus sat down on the small sofa in his rather cramped sitting room and gestured for Hermione to take the love-seat. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

“Oh, no thank you, Professor. I’m doing well, thanks, how about you?”

“I’m fine, though I do believe that we had agreed that you would call me Remus now that I’m no longer your Professor?” Remus smiled warmly at the young witch and Hermione nodded her head with an answering smile of her own.

“So what can I do for you?” asked Remus curiously. He leaned back against the couch and crossed his legs to get comfortable.

“I was wondering if you had the time to go with me to Diagon Alley today? I was reading up on the Abeo Venefici and I found a potion that is supposed to help restore their energy when they come into their inheritance and I need a few ingredients. I was thinking that I’d brew it for Harry, and if he already has it, I could keep it for the next time someone gets sick because it is just a really strong vitamin replenisher.” Hermione cut off abruptly when she realized that she’d been babbling. She blushed and looked tentatively at Remus, but the older man was smiling widely at her.

“Great idea! I’m sure Harry would appreciate that very much. Just let me see if Molly needs anything while we are there and then I’ll be good to go. Are Ronald and any of the others coming?”

Hermione shook her head, “No, they’re practicing Quidditch and said they didn’t want to go.” Hermione rolled her eyes; practicing Quidditch, more like they were having fun beating the bludgers at each other for hours on end. 

“Right, well I’ll just go speak with Molly and meet you out front so that we can Apparate alright?” 

Hermione agreed and hopped up to go get her money and list from her room. Twenty minutes later she was following Remus’ weaving form through the throng of busy shoppers. She breathed a sigh of relief when they finally stepped into the cool shade of the Apothecary. It wasn’t as busy in the small shop, there were just a few scattered shoppers browsing the various ingredients for sale.

She went quickly around the shelves, picking up the supplies that she would need for the coming school year, as well as the ingredients that she needed to brew Harry’s potion. Orange and vanilla concentrate, papaya oil, crushed and powered pine bark … When she had finished and paid for she collection of wares, Remus appeared at her side and they left the shop.

“So where to?” asked Remus, shading his face with his hand as he scanned the bustling crowd.

“Well, I was hoping to look for a few good books on the Abeo Venefici, but besides that I’m finished … It’s there anything that you need?”

Remus nodded in response but did not elaborate as he led Hermione over to the bookstore. Inside it was surprisingly empty, but Hermione supposed it was because everyone was putting off by their term books until the last possible day. They browsed the store for a good hour before they had both found what they wanted. Remus had a stack of books on dark magical creature found in Africa (a new hobby, he said) and Hermione had managed to find two very dusty, very thick tomes on the lives and history of the Abeo Venefici. 

All in all they were both very happy when they stepped back out into the heat of the summer sun.

“It’s about twelve, how about we grab some lunch and then I’ll show you the most interesting little place that I found here a few weeks ago.”

 

Lunch was a rushed, but still enjoyable affair. They ate identical sandwiches and gulped down cold pumpkin juice, standing at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron because there weren’t any free tables. Once they had finished, Remus paid (ignoring Hermione’s protests) and lead the young witch quickly down the Alley. They walked in silence, weaving in and out of the crowd, sweating in the oppressive summer heat. After a while, the crowd thinned out. Hermione noticed that they had passed Knockturn Alley and were leaving Diagon Alley completely. Just when she was going to ask Remus how much further they were going to go, the man stopped and turned abruptly to his right, ducking into a small, hardly noticeable shop.

Hermione followed him in and for a moment she stood dazed in the doorway, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness after coming in from the bright sunlight in the street.

“Where are we?” she asked as she squinted at the odd shapes filling the floor to ceiling shelves that were crammed everywhere in the small space.

“This is Hethfluffle’s Shop Wonder; I stumbled upon it a few months ago and have been dying to come back. Here, come see.” With that Remus grasped her elbow lightly and steered her down one of the aisles. Now that her eyes had adjusted Hermione gazed about in marvel. The shelves were packed full of the most interesting little knick-knacks that she had ever seen. To her left she spotted a tiny jar of dehydrated dragon’s saliva, a stack of Muggle CDs that appeared to be charmed to sing their content, and a pile of hard candy that changed its shape and colour every time that she looked away. 

“Here, I bet you would find this interesting,” said Remus, handing her a thin, leather bound book.

Hermione flipped through the blank pages and looked up questioningly. 

“It’s nice, but I have lots of empty journals.”

“I’m sure,” replied Remus grinning widely, “but I’d bet that you don’t have anything like this. Here, close the book and place one hand on top and one hand on the bottom.” 

Hermione did as she was told, sandwiching the book between her palms.

“Good, now think of a book that you own.” 

_Hogwarts: A History_ popped into her mind immediately and she waited for the next instruction curiously.

“Got it? Good. Now open the book.”

“Ohhh. This is amazing” whispered Hermione in wonder. The first page of Hogwarts: A History stared up at her from the open journal. 

“Useful isn’t it? Apparently there is no limit to the number of books that it can call up, the only thing being that it has to be a book that you own, or have owned, to work.”

Hermione clasped the book tight to her chest. Studying would be so much easier like this … no heavy books to lug around, no aching shoulder at the end of the day … amazing!

“I knew you’d like it,” her professor stated smugly, “now go have a look around. We have about two hours or so before we are expected back at the Burrow.” With that he turned and wandered down the next aisle, leaving Hermione to browse through the shop at her own pace. 

 

Those were the quickest two hours of her life, and when Remus tapped her on the shoulder, telling her that it was time to pay for their purchases and depart, Hermione resolved to return to the Shop of Wonder when she had more time, and definitely more money. Going up to the counter, she paid the bored looking shop-boy for the treasures that she had found. With the blank book, a vial of fairy tears (for healing potions), a container of varying candy that never emptied (for Ron), and a very interesting book on the workings of creature bonds tucked safely into her bag, Hermione followed Remus out onto the street and back to the Apparation point. She couldn’t help but beam when her feet touched back down on the grass of the Weasleys’ front yard.

“Thanks so much Remus,” she said, giving him a tight hug. “I had a great time!”

“No problem,” he laughed as she turned and ran back towards the impromptu Quidditch pitch. ‘Ron is going to love this’ she thought, as she slipped through the garden gate and waved at her air-bound boyfriend to come down.

* * *

So that was it ... I hope that you all liked it. Thank you to all of my reviewers from the last chapter! Recieved that most reviewers on that chapter than any other so thanks a ton!

Also, I've decided to try something new ... My story has seen the 100 review benchmark (thanks!) and so as a thank-you I'm going to extend to offer of a request to each 100th reviewer. 

Thus far, that means that I owe Quaff one request. If you'd like to take me up on that please feel free to e-mail me at aaron.karre@gmail.com.

A request constitutes a scene or a quirk, or some such that you'd like me to include. I reserve the right to veto, so please don't tell me to have Sev kill Harry and go marry Ron or something like that. But if you have a nice little request, like perhaps you'd like Harry to have a strawberry fetish or something on that level ... or you'd like to see Sev and Harry go at it in the Potions classroom .... Please feel free to e-mail me :)

To be clear ... requests are for the 100th reviewers (Quaff so far) ... I wish I could incorporate everyone's requests but then I'd lose where the story is headed.

Anyway, thanks for reading! and happy reviewing :)  
Steppenwolf


	13. Well that seems fair

  
Author's notes:   


* * *

Note: full disclaimer found in chapter one ... WARNING for this chapter: incorporates an account of self-harm ... if it bugs you please skip over it. It begins at the line of ***** and ends at the next line of ***** so it'll be easy to skip if you want to.

* * *

_Harry fidgeted nervously under Severus’ gaze. “Can come down with you? I swear I’ll be quiet.”_

 

Severus merely opened the door and ushered Harry down the steps ahead of him. Harry took a stool and sat reading at the side of one of the work benches, and Severus brewed Pepper-Up for the Infirmary. They stayed like that for the better of the next three hours.

Eventually, when there was a break in his brewing, to allow the potion to boil down and thicken for thirty minutes, Severus looked over at Harry. His breath hitched in his throat. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but Harry was adorable.

His tongue poked up the side of his mouth, just a flash of pink, his eyes were squeezed shut in concentration, and when Severus listened, he could hear Harry mumbling under his breath, “focus on an image … focus, focus, _focus_ ”. 

Suddenly an image of a huge oak tree flashed up in Severus’ mind and he jumped in shock. He could hear Harry laughing happily, and watched as the tree seemed to vibrate and sway. He was proud that Harry had obviously accomplished what he had wanted to … but something felt off. Frowning, he set aside the lily roots that he had been chopping and tried to push through the link to assure himself that his mate was well. He couldn’t; that tree seemed to actually move into his way and blocked him.

Severus couldn’t help it. With all the strain from that morning, and the scare of the previous night, combined with the sudden disconnection with his mate his instincts took over and he launched himself across the room at Harry, all of his vampiric traits emerging to fight off the perceived threat. 

 

“Sev? What are you – whoa, umph! Hey let me down; it’s okay! Sev, hey it’s alright. Relax.” One minute Harry was celebrating his success with controlling the link with his mate, the next he was crushed in a very angry vampire’s embrace and forced against the wall. He brought a tentative hand up to stroke along Sev’s jaw and very deliberately let down his new shield.

Severus shuddered when he could once against feel Harry’s presence in his mind and pressed against the hand cupping his cheek. For a moment neither moved, and then Severus buried his face in Harry’s neck and just stood, inhaled his scent. Slowly his panic receded and he felt his fangs shorten, and his logical mind once again took precedence.

He let Harry go rather abruptly, though he barely registered the boy’s squeak of surprise when he hit to floor suddenly. 

“Do try to warn me next time you are going to _close_ our connection or you may find that I will do something decidedly more unpleasant to assure myself of your _well-being_.” With that Severus spun on his heel, and stalked over to his potion to lean up his station while he waited for the potion to boil. He ignored Harry’s shocked look, and forcibly closed his mind against the tentative touches for Harry’s mind. He was _angry_ , even though in all honesty, he wasn’t completely sure why he was quite this angry.

His mood did not improve when Harry jumped up from where Severus had dumped him and stomped right up in front of him, his face flushed with aggravation.

“So it’s okay for you to be able to block me, but when I try to stop you from getting into my mind you freak out. Well, _that seems fair_ doesn’t it? You know what? Just because you’re older, or because you’re a vampire, doesn’t give you the right to keep trying to control everything I do! This is what Aerial told me to look at for tomorrow’s lesson, and the book said that I should learn to shield _for you_ , for the good of my mate! And you know what else? This is new to me too, you aren’t the only that’s trying to adjust!” With that Harry grabbed his book off of the table and stormed up the stairs. Severus winced when the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, and then the door of the room that he had given Harry followed suit a few seconds later. 

‘Control’ ha! As if anyone could control that narcissistic, impertinent little child. Severus whipped his wand in a complex pattern over his cauldron and banished the contents, sending the rest of his supplies flying back into their places. The potion was ruined, and he was too worked up to brew now anyway. 

He walked quietly up the stairs, not wanting to give Harry the satisfaction of hearing the effect that his little tantrum had had on him, and swept into his study to read for the afternoon. He was in to mist of reaching for his favourite potions text when the image of the oak tree once again flashed into his mind. It was the same tree, except this time the leaves were withered and wilting away and the branches stretched ominously, as though ready to attack upon request. Severus had no intention of “attacking”, and he settled uneasily behind his desk and began to read.

* * *

Harry was angry, though in all honesty, he didn’t know why he was quite this angry. Sure Severus was being a prat, but he probably should have warned him that he was going to start practicing the shielding techniques that Aerial had told him to look at. And Severus was always a prat … in a twisted sort of way it was part of his charm. 

Yet here he was, sitting curled up on his bed, not on their bed, brushing away stray tears of frustration and just itching to cut … He hadn’t done it in so long. As soon as the thought entered his head he threw up his shielding image. The book had said that he should concentrate on a comforting image and place it in the forefront of his mind. It was surprisingly easy, and Harry begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was probably because of his horrible Occlumency lessons with Severus. But he was glad that it was easy, he didn’t have the energy to struggle with a challenging new concept, and if there was one thought that he didn’t want Severus to catch on to, it was this prevailing need to go find something sharp. 

**************************************************************************

After a few very drawn out minutes of resistance, Harry gave in and went into the washroom, taking a seat on the edge of the large marble bathtub. Using his wand, more out of habit than necessity, he summoned his toothbrush and transfigured it into a very sharp, inch long blade. 

Harry didn’t rush. He didn’t have to, not here, not with the locking charm he had cast on the door. So for a while he just looked it the blade, and then at his bared forearm and then back at he blade. It was thin and cool to the touch, and light in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Harry let his glamours drop and inspected the neat rows of scars running up his arm. He moved the blade to his arm.

And it helped. Despite all logic, and despite the horror stories that Harry had heard over the years about cutting addictions, and accidental suicide, it helped. Because he wasn’t cutting for death, or even for pain. He was cutting for control. Everyone had always controlled his life; Dumbledore, Voldemort, his relatives, the wizarding world in general … and now Severus apparently … but this, this was something that he alone had control over and it soothed his anger like no calming draught ever would.

Harry was careful. He limited himself to five well placed incisions, and made sure to bind the new wounds, and clean up the washroom very thoroughly. The he went and finished reading chapter three of his book, enjoying the sharp stinging in his arm every time he moved to turn the page.

**************************************************************************

* * *

Severus endured three long hours of “reading” while the oak tree stayed rooted in the back of his mind. Every so often he could feel Harry doing something with the bond, and a new aspect would appear on the tree; a small blue bird that sang sweetly, grass on the ground by the trunk, green leaves that first appeared as small green buds and grew out large and full. And despite his ire, he was proud of his little mate, because he had read enough of the book to know that each addition to Harry’s mental shield meant that the boy was learning something and putting it into practice. 

But the separation was a strain and it wore on him like sandpaper over his skin. So at three o’clock he snapped his journal shut and walked down the hallway to Harry’s closed door. He tapped softly on the door and waited.

“Yeah?” a tired voice called from within.

“I’ve come to ask whether you would like to join me for lunch, as it is considerably past the noon hour.” Severus breathed a sigh of relief when the oak tree disappeared and the connection with Harry’s mind took up its customary place in his mind. The door opened and Severus took a step back.

“Sure,” said Harry, pulling Severus’ hoodie over his head and moving towards the kitchen.

“Are you cold?” Severus asked with a degree of concern. He knew his chambers were cool, but he didn’t think it was that cold … it was still summer after all. He followed Harry into the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised to see a lunch tray waiting for them on the counter.

“No, but I will be if I don’t layer up,” Harry smiled cheekily at him, “after all, my mate has the same body temperature as the lake.” Severus laughed out loud before he could stop himself and the pair sat down at the table to eat their meal.

After a few minutes of oddly comfortable silence Severus summoned the day’s newspaper. If Harry wasn’t going to bring up the subject of their argument, then he wasn’t going to either.

It wasn’t until Harry pulled up the sleeves of the too-large sweatshirt to eat his fruit salad that Severus noticed the bandage wrapped around his thin left arm. Actually, it wasn’t the bandage he noticed, but the smell of the blood that seemed to float straight to his nose …

“Have you injured yourself?” he asked, dropping his fork to catch Harry’s hand and pull the injured arm closer. The injury smelled clean at least … there were no traces of dirt clinging to Harry’s skin.

“No, I mean yes, but I’m okay. I was just being clumsy, and caught my arm on a corner when I rushed into my room…” said Harry, attempting to pull his arm back. It didn’t work; Severus held on tightly.

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Were you too tired? Here, allow me to examine it, and I will heal it for you.” Severus grasped the edge of the bandage and started to peel up a corner, careful not to pull too much on Harry’s skin.

“No! I-I mean it’s fine, really it’s just a little scratch,” exclaimed Harry, giving his arm a particularly strong tug. Severus did not relinquish his grip and he watched Harry wince in pain. The smell of his mate’s fresh blood assaulted his nostrils and he nearly lost his tenuous hold over his vampire instincts.

“Don’t be ridiculous, there is no need for you to be in pain,” with that Severus pulled off the bandage and sat frozen, staring at the five, perfectly even slices marring the pale skin. Harry trembled.

“I um, I-I, umm, ah shit,” said Harry as he stopped struggling against Severus’ iron grip. _“Shit”_. 

Severus closed his eyes against the image. Of course he’d seen the scars on Harry’s arms when he’d healed him the first time. But they’d been old scars, silver and faded with age. These were quite obviously very new. Harry had done this _today_ , not before when he’d been living with his wretched relatives. Harry had done this after their fight; it was his fault. 

_‘Mate hurt! Mate, mate, mate, heal mate. Heal. Heal. Blood. Heal.’_ And for once Severus was in complete and entire agreement with his vampire. Heal. He would heal Harry, and later they could talk.

Severus opened his eyes to a very nervous looking face peering up at him. Harry was pale and seemed to shake. He looked so _small_ , drowning in Severus’ sweater, his other hand fiddling agitatedly with a thread on his jeans.

The older man softened his gaze in an effort to reassure the boy and reverted his attention to the arm in his grasp. The cuts were clean. Good. But Severus salved them with his tongue anyway, wondering at the explosion of taste that the blood set off in his mouth. The healing agents in his saliva dealt quickly with the cuts and soon the skin was unblemished. Completely unblemished …

Severus looked up and raised an eyebrow at his mate. 

“When did you resume the use of your glamours?” he asked.

Harry winced at the sharp tone and adverted his eyes, choosing to stare intently at his own knees.

“Umm, well the day you brought us back to the castle.”

“Why?” 

The question took Harry off guard and his eyes flashed back up to take in Severus’ confused expression.

“Because there is only one scar that people want to see on me, and it isn’t one of these.” There was defiance in his voice, and a fatigue so palpable that Severus wondered how long it had been since Harry had had a good, full night’s rest.

“It must take a great deal of energy to maintain such a spell for so long. You need to conserve your energy while you are adjusting to your inheritance. Please do not keep them up on my account, I would rather that you didn’t,” Severus said stiffly. How was he supposed to tell Harry that even if he was hideously disfigured, he would still be perfect in his eyes? It was hard to say such things without the cover of lust or an afterglow.

Harry looked dubious, but nodded, and let one of his glamours down. About a third of his marks appeared. He wasn’t ready to show everything just yet, even if his mate had seen it all already. 

When he looked up to see Severus’s reaction, he noticed how dark the other man’s eyes were and glanced at the clock guiltily.

“You haven’t fed in hours, aren’t you thirsty?”

Severus took the abrupt change of topic in stride and nodded. He was thirsty, more so now after the little taste he’d had moments ago.

“Are you sure that you are well enough?” The last thing that he wanted to do was to put more stress on his mate when he was obviously having trouble adjusting to their arrangement. But he sighed in relief when Harry nodded his consent and scooped the boy up n his arms.

Standing, he asked, “Are you finished with your lunch?” Harry nodded, and waved his hand over the array of dishes on the table, sending them floating back to the tray. 

“Good,” said Severus, “I believe an afternoon nap may be in order after I’ve fed. We’ve had a rather trying day thus far.”

Harry nodded and rested his head on Severus’ shoulder as he was carried into their bedroom, inhaling his mate’s scent in deep breaths, soaking in the contact. It _had_ been a trying day … and truth be told, he had a pounding headache again from leaving his shield up for so long. Maybe it would fade after Severus bit him like it did before.

Harry smiled sleepily when Severus placed him carefully on the bed and scooted close to the other man’s body when he lay down as well. Maybe, if he was lucky, Severus would just let the whole cutting thing drop … Maybe. Harry sighed when a sharp pain lanced up his neck. Maybe ….

* * *

So that was it ... just a short little chapter before we dive into the longer chapter 14, which should be up in about a week ... I hope that you all liked it and thanks for reading!  
Please review ... and add some sun to a cloudy day :)  
Steppenwolf


	14. fourteen

  
Author's notes: ...  


* * *

Note: for the full disclaimer see chapter one ... but I don't own them and I don't make money from them ...   
Also, I'm getting a bit sick of changing the ratings, warnings and what-not each chapter, so from now on, if there is anything new and important to warn you about, you will find it at the beginning of each chapter. Otherwise, everything is rated MV (because eventually it will have to be) and the genre will be the same as chapter one ...  
So here is chapter 14 ... in which Harry experiences some neck pain, Severus apologises, and we all learn a bit about Aerial ... Happy reading!

* * *

_Harry sighed when a sharp pain lanced up his neck. Maybe …._

Oddly enough, it wasn’t the pain that clued him in. It was the sound. He could hear the little breathy keening, growling sound that Sev usually made while he fed, except it was much closer and louder than usual. It was really close. Like coming from right by his ear close. And then it clicked; Severus had bitten his neck!

Harry had barely finished the thought before the venom induced lust swamped his brain. He was hard instantly, aching and dripping scant moments later. And the strangely gentle suckling on his neck that went on and on and only added to the influx of sensation battering his poor tired brain. 

But it wasn’t the same as usual … it didn’t last. His body was yearning for contact, any contact, but his mind rebelled and he fought against the arms wrapped around him, against the body atop his own. He reached out with his mind when the struggling proved useless, only to jerk back when he encountered a much more primitive, animalistic feel from Severus’ mind than was normal. A hand moved down his body and pressed against his groin, providing the sweet friction his traitorous anatomy seemed to burn for.

‘No!’ he shouted in his mind, fear flooding in. He wasn’t ready, not now, not yet. But still his body reacted. And before he knew it his mate was licking at the wound on his neck instead of sucking and he had somehow lost his pants.

“No, no Sev, please, Merlin, no not yet … please wait, please, no” Harry whimpered, unaware that he was both asking for more and less at the same time. His mind was torn in two; half of him wanted everything right now, right this instant, the other half trembled and shied away from the feel of Severus’ clothed erection grinding shamelessly against his ass.

* * *

_Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!_ Severus growled at the irritating interruption. Something was _hitting_ the back of his head. _Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!_ The vampire growled again as something large kept striking him. It didn’t hurt, but it was _irritating_. He growled again. He was trying to make his mate feel good and _something_ was trying to stop him … trying to stop him from taking and claiming and … and... _Thwap!Thwap!Thwap!SMACK!_ Harry!

Severus pulled back abruptly and for a second was disoriented as his human mind once again took over his senses. A thin hand came out of nowhere and smashed into the side of his face as he looked down to see Harry lying beneath him, pant-less and panicked looking.

“Get off!” cried the boy, and confused, Severus complied, rolling over and sitting up as Harry sprinted to the washroom, grabbing his pants from the floor on the way there. How’d they come to be resting in a heap on the floor?

Oh Merlin. No. Every bloody time they sorted out one disaster, another came along. Severus jerked off the bed and ran to the closed door when he heard that distinctive ‘click’ that now made him cringe inside. Harry had locked the door. Harry had locked himself inside the _washroom_ again. No, no, no.

“Harry?” Severus tried softly, pressing his palms on the door. Thank Circe, no locking wards. “I am sorry. I lost my head. I truly did not intend for that to happen. Please, open the door?”

Silence.

“Harry, love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Are you hurt? Please open the door, or say something.” Severus knew it was wrong to assume, but Harry was locked in the washroom, where Severus kept a very expensive, very old, extremely sharp shaving razor, and the image of the neat slices from earlier haunted his vision. He stared at the doorknob, contemplating just breaking down the door; he was strong enough to get through a simple plank of wood. “Harry?”

“Oh would you relax! I have to pee for Merlin’s sake!” Harry’s voice hollered over that sound of well … him doing just that. Severus breathed deeply and tried to calm himself. Harry was angry, that much was strikingly obvious. The link buzzed with irritation. But he was _okay_. That was the important bit.

A few minutes later the door was whipped open and for a moment they both froze, and stood gazing at each other. Harry’s green eyes sparked with anger and Severus couldn’t help but feel happy. An angry Harry was a thousand times better than a depressed or catatonic Harry. Severus reached open a hand tentatively towards the pale neck, frowning at the look of the jagged puncture marks that still let a small trickle of blood soak into Harry’s collar, a red patch growing steadily.

“Let go of me you git!” hissed Harry. “Don’t touch me.”

Severus jerked back, stung by the venom in his mate’s voice. He knew logically that Harry had more than every right to be angry, to deny his touch, but his mind was still clouded by the happiness and intimacy of having drunk from his mate. His vampire recoiled from the harsh tone. He watched with sad eyes as Harry lifted a hand and pressed it flat over the holes, healing them silently. He almost flinched when suddenly Harry started yelling.

“What the hell did you do that for? We AGREED you wouldn’t bite me on the neck! You PROMISED and then you did it anyway! What the hell!!” Harry’s face was flushed and his eyes looked like they could have seared Severus’ head off.

Severus carefully kept his hands at his sides. “I am so sorry. I promised, I know. I don’t have a sufficient reason beyond that it was out of my control. I _swear_ that it will NEVER happen against without your direct consent. But you must realize that my bond with you is incomplete, so it is incredibly difficult for me to maintain control while I am drinking from you. Please forgive me. I will find a way to keep a firmer grip on my instincts.” Severus peered up into softening green eyes, and winced at the realization that this was the second time today that he was begging forgiveness for his lack of control.

Harry nodded stiffly and moved around to the bureau to find a clean shirt. Severus frowned again when he saw Harry roll his head from side to side and crack his neck abruptly.

“Are you well?”

Harry glanced over his shoulder as he pulled on a long sleeved pullover. “My neck is really stiff.” He went over to the bed and pulled back the covers, climbing in and setting his glasses on the bedside table.

Severus walked over hesitantly and leaned down. Green eyes stared at him speculatively.

“It’s okay, you can sit.” A small hand patted the bed next to where the blankets bunched over Harry’s legs.

Nodding, the Potions Master sat and reached out, placing his hands on either side of Harry’s neck gently. He could feel the tension easing beneath his fingers.

Harry sighed in relief. “Wait,” he said when Severus went to pull away, grasping the man’s wrists to keep the cool hands in place. “Why does this make it better?”

“When a vampire bites his or her mate, a connection deeper than the pre-existing link forms. It’s both physical and mental, as your body contracts certain muscles so that your blood flows most freely. Because I did not salve the wound with my saliva, this ‘connection’ would have been cut very quickly. Usually the chemicals in a vampire’s saliva ease tense muscles and allow for a comfortable break.”

Harry nodded his understanding. “Do you have a potion or something I can take?”

“No,” answered Severus regretfully, “a muscle relaxant won’t do anything for this type of tension. The best solution would be for you to get some sleep.” He pulled his hands away from the warmth of Harry’s skin slowly and stood, going to the door.

“You aren’t going to stay?” asked Harry, eyes wider than usual.

“Would you like me to?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to … or if you’re busy or something.” Harry looked away and lay down fully, wrapping the blanket around himself. But he still faced the door, watching to see if Severus would leave.

“Not at all,” replied Severus, secretly happy about this acceptance. He removed his outer robe, leaving his shirt and trousers, and laid down next the Harry, smiling when the boy shuffled closer and tucked himself on his chest, under his chin.

“Sleep well brat.” Severus placed a tiny kiss atop unruly black hair.

* * *

Severus let Harry sleep the day away and through the night. He resolved to start the boy on an intense schedule of vitamin supplement and nutrition potions to help alleviate the extreme fatigue that his mate seemed to suffer from. He rebuked himself quietly for not beginning sooner; Harry was still much too thin.

When Harry finally did awake it was nearly nine o’clock in the morning, and Severus was once again playing the, ‘if I don’t acknowledge my thirst, then it isn’t there’ game. Harry took one look at Severus’ strained expression and offered his wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, not unkindly.

Severus nodded and drank deeply, fighting with all of his might against his instincts. He nearly lost it, and when he once again became aware he found that he was pressed very close up against Harry’s side. But the boy seemed satisfied so Severus merely rolled back and got out of bed.

“I’ll go prepare the morning meal, if you would like to get dressed before we break fast.” Upon Harry’s agreement, Severus swept from the room to order their breakfast.

After summoning Sparkles and asking for their now-customary breakfast tray, Severus went down into his potions lab to collect the potions that Harry would need.

Which was where Harry found him half an hour later.

“Oh, here you are. What are you looking for? Wow, that’s really cool. Who are all of those for?” Severus jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice coming from behind him, and cursed himself for allowing his mate to sneak up on him like that. 

He could see that the boy was just itching to explore the large cabinet that he was rooting through so he stepped aside and motioned Harry forwards.

“Wow. It’s huge; I can’t even see the back of it. It must have taken you years to brew all of these.”

“Hundreds,” Severus agreed, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist from behind. He reveled in the way that the boy shifted back against him automatically.

“This wasn’t here yesterday through,” pressed Harry reaching into the six-foot mahogany cabinet to finger one of the thousands of vials filling the seemingly endless wire racks. 

“No, it only appears when I need something from it.”

Severus sighed when Harry prodded him in the ribs with his elbow for more information.

“When I was turned, I obviously didn’t know what species my mate would be of so I started brewing every potion that I came across that could be useful in some way. It’s a nesting instinct. All vampires do it, though it caters to each individual’s skills. Someone that is skilled in carpentry might create a vast collection of beautiful furniture. I was good with potions, so I brewed.”

Harry craned his head around and gave Severus a look of wonder.

“You brewed all of these for me?” Severus nodded sharply, embarrassed with Harry’s wide eyed look of disbelief. “How many are there?”

“Twenty-six thousand, three hundred and eighty two,” Severus replied offhandedly, as though he wasn’t proud of the stock of potions that he could offer his mate. 

“You don’t, like, give them away to the Infirmary when Madam Pomfrey needs them?”

Severus growled low in his throat. “No, these are for you, _my mate_ , and no one else.”

Harry beamed suddenly and twisted to capture Severus’ lips in a deep kiss. That seemed to go on and on and on, but ended far too soon of Severus’ liking.

“Thank you; no one has ever done something like this for me.” Harry broke away and trailed back up the stairs. “Breakfast is here, and your tea is getting cold,” floated down the stairs before Severus heard the door close softly. 

Severus smirked and shook his head as he collected the three nutrient potions and two vials of blood-replenisher that he would be feeding Harry. He was glad that his mate was pleased with his ‘nesting’ efforts. Over the years he’d heard enough stories of demanding, unsatisfied mates from those of his own kind to cause him to worry that the potions wouldn’t be enough … But according to the bolt of pleasure that had struck through the link when Harry had learned of the cabinet he needn’t have worried.

* * *

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Harry wrote a letter to his friends while he ate, and Severus read the daily paper. When he tried to hand Harry the collection of vials, the boy merely shifted forward, opened his moth and tilted his head back. Severus purred inwardly and poured the contents into the perfect mouth.

“Thanks,” said Harry, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “They didn’t even taste too bad.” He smiled cheekily and scampered off to go mail his letter.

 

They passed the morning in companionable silence, broken only when Harry interrupted Severus’ reading to ask a question or seek his approval for his conjuring efforts. 

Lunch was peaceful as well, though Severus’ could feel the tension begin to build in Harry’s mind as Aerials’ arrival time drew closer.

At one o’clock exactly a knock sounded at the door and Severus rose to let the woman in. As always, Aerial fairly danced in, looking both carefree and agelessly wise at the same time. Today, unlike before, her hair was tied up and she wore Muggle clothing, rather than her usual garb. Stunning black jeans were topped by a simple cotton, long sleeved black shit and the absence of colour in her wardrobe brought the vivid, changing colours of her eyes out.

“Harry, how are you?” she asked, settling down on a comfortable chair, while Severus scooped Harry onto his lap in the other. 

“Um, I’m alright.” Severus scoffed and Harry glared at him.

“Okay, I’m not doing so well. I had a vision the other night and Voldemort was in my mind. It was brutal.” Harry rubbed his forehead at the remembered pain that experience had caused. “But I did learn how to put up a shield between me and Sev, and I practiced conjuring small stuff in that glass you left. I’m getting better at that.”

Aerial nodded and smiled at his accomplishments. “It’s wonderful that you’re progressing, though I am worried about you having another person in your mind, especially because it’s Voldemort. The material that we cover today should help you keep him out in the future.” Aerial shifted forward and reached into her pocket suddenly.

“Oh right! And before I forget, here are the instructions on how to brew that tea I gave you last time. That should help restore your energy quite a bit.” She handed Harry a folded piece of paper, which Severus plucked from his grasp. If anyone was going to make some unknown drink for Harry, it would be his mate, not this strange woman. Severus set the paper in one of the pockets in his robe, and leveled a glare at Aerial. No matter what, he didn’t trust this woman. She had hurt Harry, though unintentionally, and it would take a long time for her to gain Severus’ trust.

Aerial glanced at Severus’ expression and nodded her head minutely, as though acknowledging the message that he was trying to send.

“So Harry, why don’t you tell me about the shield that you can create and we’ll get started?”

“Well, I read the chapter you asked me to and kinda just did what it said. I picked an image that I felt comfortable with and practiced adding stuff to it …” Harry trailed off, shooting a sheepish glance at Severus.

“What happened?” asked Aerial, noticing the exchange.

“I was unprepared for the link to be blocked and reacted rather – poorly,” replied Severus, holding up his hand to hold off Harry’s explanation. “I must admit that I do not understand the necessity for there to be a _obstruction_ between us. Such a thing would indicate a weak or fractured bond between a vampire and his mate.”

Harry started upon hearing this; that was why Sev had been so upset. The man in question sighed and pulled Harry closer, wrapping his arms securely around the smaller body. 

“Really Severus? You don’t understand why it would be necessary for Harry to be able to block you?” Aerial shook her head and smiled indulgently. “What happens at Bloodlust if you haven’t bonded yet? Or during Harry’s cycle?”

“My WHAT?” demanded Harry, whipping his head around to glare at the woman across from him. “You make it sound like I’m going to turn into a bloody girl!”

He calmed slightly when a deep voice whispered “Hush” in his ear and a hand stroked soothingly down his back. “You will be doing no such thing.”

Aerial giggled lightly. “Severus is right Harry. I’m sorry for shocking you; I thought that you would have read about this already. Once an Abeo Venefici comes into contact with their mate, they are essentially bonded. Unlike with a vampire bond, you only had to have touched Severus to bond to him completely. Now, that’s not to say that the more, intimate, components of the relationship aren’t essential. But we’ve talked a bit about this already.” Harry nodded, wincing at the memory of that _lovely_ conversation. Bloody broken bond …

“But to get back to the point, once an Abeo Venefici bonds with their mate they begin their cycle, whether they are male or female. The “cycle” isn’t what you think it is though; it has nothing to do with child bearing. It’s called a “cycle” because once a month you will feel drawn to Severus, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.”

Harry quirked his head in confusion, “But I am drawn to Severus. He’s my mate right … so we’re already connected mentally, and I, well … like it when touches me and stuff …” Harry blushed scarlet when he realized what his words implied and heard Aerial chuckle. 

“Not like that, well, I mean it like calms me down when we are in contact,” he re-stated indignantly. 

“That’s exactly it Harry. Do you remember what it was like at the Inn, on the day that you hadn’t had enough contact with Severus?”

Harry nodded; of course he could remember that day.

“Now if you take that feeling, that almost compulsive itch that sits under your skin, and multiply it by about three, that is what it’ll feel like for three days of each month. Now obviously there are other symptoms that will emerge, but each Abeo is different, and so each must deal with his or her “cycle” differently. What I can tell you is that if you have not engaged in a very significant act with your mate by the time your first cycle comes around, and wish to wait, you are going to have to be able to block your mind from his. Because, whether you want it to or not, your mind will subconsciously be calling Severus to complete his bond and however strong he may be, eventually he will give in.”

Harry and Severus sat wide eyed and silent. 

“Ah. I see; it does seem rather pertinent that Harry learns this particular skill,” said Severus, his voice somewhat choked.

Harry cleared his throat and licked his lips, gathering his thoughts. “Wh-when is my first cycle-thing?”

Aerial tilted her head, contemplating for a moment, “You’re birthday is on the 31st of July, right? And you bonded with Severus on the second Saturday of August … which means that you’re cycle should start on the third Saturday of every month, with the exception of your bonding month … so not this Saturday.”

Severus and Harry both let out a sigh of relief. A month and a day … they could be ready for it by then.

Aerial laughed at their twin expressions of trepidation and leaned forward. 

“Now shall we begin with the lesson?”

* * *

Two and a half hours later a very tired Harry lay slumped against Severus’ chest, nursing a cup of Aerial’s cool tea.

“You did marvelously Harry! I’m very impressed with both of you,” Aerial beamed.

Harry smiled half-heartedly and placed his now-empty cup on the coffee table before tucking his head beneath Sev’s chin. Severus shot his finest Potions Master’s glare at the irritating woman. For over the past two hours he had had to endure Harry’s practice session with blocking and manipulating their bond. The end result was a Harry who could block, shield, screen, filter and hide their bond, and one extremely agitated vampire.

Harry, sensing Severus’ unsettled thoughts curled one hand around the back of his mate’s neck and placed a very tame kiss on the corner of his tight lips. He squeaked in surprise when the older man turned suddenly and deepened the kiss, claiming all of his mouth and nibbling on his lips, but he didn’t pull away. 

A minute later Severus pulled back, a smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. “Thank you.”

Chiming laughter brought both of their attentions back to their guest and a pink blush stole across Harry’s cheeks.

“So we’re done for today. Just remember Harry, before you go to sleep tonight to shield your bond and close your mind off from others. Be careful to leave Severus access to your mind though, I don’t think that he would do very well if you were to block him for more than a couple of hours.” Aerial chuckled at Severus’ dark look and began to rise, when Harry interrupted her.

“Hey! Hang on; you said that you’d tell us about your mate this time.” Harry shuffled around on Severus’ lap so that he could face the escaping woman.

“Right, I did say that, didn’t I?” Aerial settled back into her chair and conjured herself a mug of her tea. “Where to start? … At the beginning I suppose…” She cleared her throat and took a sip of the tea. Harry settled back against Severus’ chest again, getting comfortable, and practically started purring when a cool hand started stroking through his hair slowly.

“The first thing that you should know is that I’m really rather old, older than Severus, older than Severus’ sire … I’m actually pretty sure that I’m the oldest being currently living.” Aerial chuckled, though it lacked the usual joy that typically accompanied her laugh. 

“I was born so long ago that I can remember the rise and fall of Egypt, Rome, and even Greece. Though I am not old enough to have seen the evolution of humankind … Right, anyway, I only told you that so that you get an idea of how long I had to wait before I found my mate.”

“I moved around quite a bit when I was younger, but eventually I settled in the area that would eventually become Great Britain. I never knew why, but this area always seemed to call to me. Then in 1702 I finally found my mate. I actually stumbled across him in a back-alley. The call was so strong that I was just staggering along rather blindly and I actually tripped over his leg because he was lying on the ground and I hadn’t seen him. I discovered that he was a just-turned vampire, and I picked him up and carried him back to my flat. It took weeks for him to recover; the vampire who had turned him had obviously not intended for him to survive. But eventually he did recover enough to process his surroundings and to remember what had happened.”

“I’ve never really been able to understand his reaction. Those first few weeks, even though he wasn’t well, were the best weeks of my life. But when he realized what he had become, and figured out that he had been drinking my blood to survive he went into a rage.”

“Nothing has ever hurt so badly as the day that he walked away. Rejection is fatal for us, but I assume that because he had already bitten me, and the vampire bond had already begun to form he couldn’t truly reject me.”

“So I followed after him, when I finally could get up and make it out of the house. I followed his pull down the street and through the city. I found him back in the alley. And what I saw there I will never forget of the rest of my life.”

“I told you before that it takes hundreds of years to come into your full powers and learn to use them properly. I wasn’t exaggerating. Even then, thousands of years after I was born, I didn’t have full control over my powers. “

I turned the corner into the alley just in time to see _my mate_ raise and fire a pistol … into his own heart.” Aerial paused, lost in her memories. Harry sat shocked and burrowed closer to Severus, twisting his body to maximize the contact between the two of them. He couldn’t even imagine the pain …

“There’s a common misconception that a vampire is invincible. The truth is that a vampire becomes invincible to harm after their turning has progressed to its fullest, and even then they are only invincible if they _wish to be_. Daemon did not wish to be. He was so repulsed by what he had become that he couldn’t even see that with my blood he would never be forced to feed from anyone else …”

“Without my full powers I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t stop the bullet, anymore than I could have stopped time from passing. But holding him there on that street, even as I felt myself begin to fade, I saved his soul. I can’t really explain what I did. All I know is that he will be re-born, which is why I am still alive.” Harry and Severus watched as Aerial visibly pulled herself back together.

“Ah, I am sorry. It seems that I have told you more than you asked for. Forgive me.”

Harry blinked owlishly. “Didn’t it hurt?” he whispered in a small voice. Even thinking of loosing Severus made his whole being shudder and cringe. He snuggled closer into the stronger arms that tightened around him.

“More than I could even tell you. More than anything I have ever experienced. My one wish for you is that neither of you will ever know that type of pain.”

Harry nodded shakily, “Thank you for telling us.”

Aerial smiled a small, tight smile. “You’re welcome little one. Now, if you both will please excuse me, I am supposed to meet Poppy for dinner this evening and must go freshen up.”

Harry suddenly found himself lifted in Severus’ arms as the other man stood to walk Aerial to the door. Apparently learning the story of Aerial’s past had had given Severus a new respect for the woman.

“Wait! Wait!” gasped Harry, starling both Aerial and Severus as they headed towards the door. He scrambled down from Severus’ arms and rushed to Aerial’s side.

“You said that you couldn’t save him without your full powers right? So does the opposite work? Could you, hypothetically, kill someone, just like ‘phht!’?” Harry asked excitedly.

“Yes, hypothetically, I could,” Aerial replied slowly.

“So I just, you know, think Voldemort dead?” Harry rushed on, his mind spinning with the possibility. 

“NO!” bellowed Severus, causing Harry to jump. “Think of how much energy it would take Harry; you would not survive the strain.” Severus strode forward and pulled Harry back into his arms, trying to will the very thought out of his little mate’s head.

“But, but couldn’t you do it? You’ve got your full powers right?” Harry turned pleading eyes on Aerial, who was leaning heavily against the closed door.

“No Harry, I don’t. An Abeo needs _their mate_ to come into their full powers, and I don’t have mine yet. I am merely more powerful than you because I am so much older,” she replied sadly.

Harry shook his head back and forth. “But you said, ‘without my full powers’ … couldn’t we just … the two of us together … and Sev … and, and … and Dumbledore! Dumbledore too! We could do it, all of us together!” It was so close, the chance to end the war and the suffering and the death. So close …

“No Harry, not even all of us together.”

He wrenched out of Severus embrace, not wanting the other two to see the tears prickling at his eyes.

“Fine, right, sorry … I just thought …” he trailed off, going back into the sitting room.

* * *

Severus could feel Harry’s heart breaking, felt the emptiness as his mate’s mind filled with sadness. He was already hyper-sensitive to Harry after the hours of practice that Harry had spent blocking their bond and interfering with their connection, and now to have this crushing blow delivered. Enough was enough.

“Fix it, now!” he hissed at Aerial before going and scooping up a struggling Harry. The boy wrestled for freedom before he gave in and lay still, cradled against Severus’ chest like a small child.

“Harry, when I said that I couldn’t _save_ him, I meant specifically that I couldn’t bring him _back to life_. The amount of energy that it takes to bring a being back to life is exponential; the amount that it takes to kill a being is about the same as it would take if you were to die yourself.”

Harry nodded. “I get it. I’m okay. It’s just … the end, it was so close, y’know?” He gave Severus a small smile and patted him arm, send reassuring waves of sensation down the link.

“Hang on, you said back to life. You mean I could bring someone back to life?” Harry was excited again, and Severus knew why. Sirius. Harry wanted to bring back Sirius. He sent a warning glare at Aerial telling her clearly to let Harry down very easily.

“Harry, love, how about this: next time I come I’ll show you how to bring a dust mite back to life. You’ll see how much energy it takes through me and you’ll understand exactly the type of toll that sort of act would take of from you. Until then you have to give me your word that you WILL NOT try to kill anything or bring anything back to life, alright?” Aerial turned her piercing purple gaze on Harry, and he quickly agreed, knowing that he really didn’t have a choice.

“Good,” said Aerial, satisfied. “Now I really do have to leave. There is more tea in the pitcher in the kitchen; make sure that you have some before you do anything else. I will come back and see you next Wednesday and we’ll talk a bit about physical transformations, so please read the rest of your book.” With that she stepped forward and kissed Harry lightly on the forehead, then disappeared with a swirl of her hair.

* * *

Hope that you all enjoyed it!! Thanks for reading. And a big, huge thank-you to those of you who reviewed my last two chapters ... never again will I make the mistake of putting up two chapters all at once. Thanks also goes to my fabulous beta, jigginbatty, for all of her time and effort. 

Happy reviewing!


	15. Closer

  
Author's notes: ...  


* * *

Just a note: for warnings, character lists, disclaimers, and genre specifications, please see chapter one ... or the chapter menu for this story ... Happy reading!

* * *

Strangely, the most trying part of Severus’ day wasn’t when Harry was asleep. It wasn’t just after he had fed and the urge to _drink and claim and feel_ threatened to overwhelm him. It wasn’t even during those aggravating moments when the pair became so sick of each other’s presence that one of them would hole up in the library for the remainder of the day. Those moments Severus could deal with; it was logical that they would fight and bicker and snark, they had gone from being each other’s dedicated antagonists to soul mates in a matter of hours. A little friction was to be expected in such a rushed transition. 

No. The hardest part of Severus’ day was when Harry was in the shower. After spending a week and a half with Harry Severus had learnt three essential things about his mate. One: Never wake Harry up from a nightmare by shaking him or shouting at him. Two: Harry loved to cook but rarely did so. And, Three: Harry was obsessively clean. Showering seemed to be a compulsory activity for the boy. Harry woke up; he showered. Harry exercised; he showered. Harry was too cold or too hot; he showered. Harry was getting ready for bed; he showered. 

It wasn’t an obsessive sort of disorder, though for a while Severus had worried. Harry was okay to miss a shower, to go a whole day without showering until the next morning. It didn’t affect his mood or interrupt his thoughts or mindset. It just seemed that when he had the time and the means, Harry liked to be really, really clean.

Severus sighed and rolled out of bed when he heard the water start in the washroom. He wiped his mouth carefully on a handkerchief and tread softly into the kitchen. It was their morning routine now; Harry would wake, stretch and snuffle about for a few minutes, Severus would feed, and even as the burning arousal pulsed through both of their veins, Harry would kiss him on the cheek and slip into the loo to shower and ready himself for the day. Simple. Sensible. Frustrating. 

Deciding not to call for breakfast, Severus instead pulled out the eggs and various vegetables he had asked for the night before. They had been kept under a cooling charm for freshness overnight, and the red pepper made a crisp crunching sound as he efficiently chopped it into small pieces. It made sense that Harry would shower after Severus had fed; the boy obviously needed the space. But the thought of a hard, naked, wet, naked, Harry, standing in the shower not wearing any clothes didn’t exactly do much to solve the _little problem_ that Severus was left with after drinking his mate’s blood. Severus sighed and quickly diced the mushrooms and green onions, throwing everything into a giant frying pan to heat before he added five eggs and some grated cheese. Harry liked omelets for breakfast. Severus couldn’t care less what they had, as long as his mate ate enough. And by enough, he meant enough to feed about three people.

The shower stopped. Severus checked the clock on the wall. Three minutes exactly. Concentrating his considerable hearing on the washroom, he heard the door to the shower-stall being opened, the _slip_ that Harry’s wet feet always made on the title, and then a long sigh. He waited. The door opened and closed and the shower started again. A self-deprecating laugh followed, and Severus carefully flipped the omelet, sending it high into the air and catching the meal on its way back down. 

Harry always took three minute showers. For the longest time Severus couldn’t figure out why. Originally he figured that the boy wanted to finish quickly. Then he figured that maybe Harry was not fond of water, or perhaps he suffered from a slight case of claustrophobia and couldn’t handle being closed in the shower stall for too long. But those theories were dismissed the day that Severus found Harry crawling through the low cabinets of the kitchen trying to find a roasting pot and had asked him whether he (Harry) would be able to breathe under water now, because the boy really wanted to explore the lake again.

He’d wondered about it until he’d gone to take his own shower after Harry’d finished a few days ago and had found the tap handle twisted all the way around to the right. It puzzled him as the water in all of the Hogwarts showers and baths was charmed to be exactly the temperature that the bather wanted. He thought about it all day, carefully shielding his confusion from its source, until he figured it out. 

Three minutes precisely. Faucet turned all the way to what would have been the cold side of the tap in the muggle world. Harry had grown up with cold, three minute showers. 

Severus divvied up the eggs and spread butter on the toast before setting all of the plates on the table. The shower stopped again as Severus poured the juice and tea. Harry wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his hand through his wet hair, his jeans riding obscenely low on his slender hips. Severus sat down and crossed his legs, picking up the paper.

“Thanks,” mumbled Harry, the sight of his full mouth would have been disgusting had Severus not been so enrapt by the tiny drop of juice resting on his full upper lip.

Severus flicked up the paper, creating a sanity-saving barrier between himself and the tempting vision across the table. 

“No problem.”

* * *

“Ron?” Hermione poked her head into the Burrow’s sitting room. Nope.

“Ron?” She stepped into the kitchen, expecting to find her boyfriend playing a game of chess with one of his many siblings on the big table in the middle of the room. Nope.

“RON!” Hermione hollered up the stairs. No one responded. Huh.

Hermione unfolded and refolded the letter in her hands. She checked her watch. 1:56; if she didn’t hurry then they were going to be late and would miss it.

Slipping on her shoes, she hurried out into the backyard and continued down the path to the vacant field behind the Burrow. Of course. She shaded her eyes against the bright sunlight and jumped nimbly over the old wooden fence. Still squinting up into the sky, she quickly spotted her lanky counterpart engaged in a very close race with his sister. By the way that they were turning and diving and reaching, she figured that they must be chasing the Weasleys’ practice snitch. 1:58. Two minutes.

“RON! RON!! RONALD WEASLEY!” Hermione nearly stamped her foot in frustration. Ron didn’t even seem to hear her. They were going to be LATE and that was just unacceptable. 

Casting her eyes around the field, Hermione spotted a spare broom lying a few yards away. Moments later she was whizzing upwards towards the group of red-headed flyers above her. Keeping her eyes resolutely focused on Ron’s weaving form, Hermione quietly repeated “don’t look down, don’t look down” under her breath like a mantra. She really did _hate_ heights.

“Ron!” she called again when she was level with the other players. “We need to go NOW!”

“Just … a … second … love” gasped Ron, zooming by, followed closely by Ginny. Hermione screeched as the gust of air that followed the two racing forms threatened to topple her from her broom. 1:59.

“Ronald, we need to go right this minute! We’re going to miss Harry!” Hermione glared in frustration as her boyfriend waved her comments away, his arm still outstretched, fingers grasping at silken feathers.

“Harry’ll … understand” he grunted through clenched teeth as he and his sister completed a smooth arch and doubled back. Ginny laughed wildly, straining just as much as her brother to catch their elusive target. 

“Oh for god’s sake!” Hermione darted forward and snatched the golden ball an inch from Ron’s hand as the pair went to soar by her again. “It’s 2:00. Get inside!” With that she tossed the fluttering snitch to Fred and shot back down to earth.

The four Weasleys sat stock-still on their brooms, mouths agape. _Hermione_ had caught the snitch. 

“RON!!” Ron shut his mouth with an audible _click_ and quickly flew after Hermione’s retreating form.

* * *

“Relax” Severus told him firmly. Harry glared at the man who was sitting on the couch, reading yet again. Severus was calm, cool, collected. He was everything that Harry was not right at this moment.

“Why aren’t they there?” he asked, his voice balancing precariously on the line between whining and annoyance. Maybe, maybe they didn’t want to talk to him. Maybe…

“You’re being ridiculous. Calm down, they will undoubtedly be here imminently.” Severus glanced at the clock and folded one long leg over the other. Merlin help him, if those two idiots didn’t have a good reason …

_Tap, tap, tap._

Harry jumped at the rapping noise that issued from the fireplace. He breathed a sigh of mixed relief and apprehension. 

“Well, here I go,” he said. A wave of reassurance flowed down the bond. Harry smiled. Severus glared pointedly at the fireplace then returned to his book.

Harry straightened his shirt, not that it would matter. Then he took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the small fire and thrust his head into the emerald flames.

There was a brief second wherein he was engulfed and all he could see was green and all he could smell was soot. Then he was looking out into the Burrow’s sitting room. Hermione and Ron sat in front of the fire. Hermione looked anxiously happy. Ron just looked like Ron. Harry smiled.

“Hi guys.”

“Harry! How are you? We’re so sorry that we’re late! _Ronald_ was partaking in some senseless pastime and lost track of the time. Are you alright? Is this okay? Where’s your mate?” Hermione gushed, all in one dizzying breath.

Harry’s head swam at the emotions flying off of his best friend. For a moment he thought that he’d lose it; that his shields against the others’ emotions wouldn’t hold. Then he felt Severus’ cool hand grasp his bare foot and the world righted itself.

“Oi Mione. Let him breathe. Alright there mate?” Ron asked, rolling his eyes at his girlfriend’s eagerness. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, but blushed lightly and sat back on her heels.

“S’okay, it has been a while since we’ve seen each other. I’m doing great Hermione.” Harry ducked his head at Hermione’s skeptical look and corrected himself.

“I mean, things are pretty good. It’s a lot to take in, y’know? This is fine, talking like this. Though I think it’ll be a bit before I can do the real face-to-face thing. And my mate is sitting in the room behind me, reading or doing something else boring like that.” Harry smirked when the hand that had been absently stroking his right foot suddenly gave his leg a light slap.

“How’ve things been? Are you eating enough fresh foods?” Hermione asked, her eyes pinching into her worried look. 

Harry laughed lightly. “Of course. Not that I’ve got that much of a choice.” Another smack.

Hermione looked pleased and then started, twisting to pluck a vial of something off of the floor behind her. 

“Here, I brewed this for you. It’s a very concentrated vitamin and nutrient supplement. It said in the books that I’ve read that it’d help you keep up your energy.” Hermione held out the vial, but then seeing Harry’s dilemma at not being able to use his arms, she tossed the potion into the fire so that it landed with a _tink_ on the hearth in Severus’ sitting room. 

“Thanks Hermione, that’s really great. I have been really tired lately,” said Harry, ignoring Severus’ grumbling about interfering witches, and substandard potions. 

Hermione beamed at the thanks. Ron cleared his throat and scratched his head, looking at Harry sheepishly.

“So, um, how’re things going with your mate? Do we know her?” Ron looked away quickly, clearly uncomfortable. Harry hesitated. To tell or not to tell?

“Well, actually you do know him, or at least you’ve met him before. He’s, ahh, well that is … you see, he’s a bit older than us …” Harry broke off, waiting for the explosion. It was a bit of a given with Ron that if something was weird or different, an explosion loomed. 

But no yelling fit came. Harry peaked up through his fringe to see his two friends waiting patiently. Huh.

“The wizarding world doesn’t have all of the same prejudices that the muggle world does, Harry,” reminded Hermione gently. Harry smiled and exhaled the breath that he’d been holding. 

“Yeah, it’s alright mate, go on” added Ron, shifting around on the hard floor.

“Ah, right. Well here’s the bit that you’re not going to like. Y’see my mate’s pretty old. Like not in our generation.” Harry was met by blank looks.

“Blimey, just tell us Harry, it can’t be that bad.” Ron smirked and laughingly added, “It’s not like you’re bonded to Snape or anything.”

Harry’s heart sank. Right, this was going to go _real_ well.

“Um, actually Ron … You see, Snape … I mean – Sev-Severus is my mate.” Silence, looming and oppressive hung in the air. Harry struggled to breathe. Severus growled at him in his head, “ _In. Out. In. Out._ ” It helped, but not really.

“Oh Harry. How?” asked Hermione, setting a tentative hand on Ron’s thigh. Ron looked down at her hand. Then he looked at Harry. Then he looked at Hermione. Harry held his breath; Ron’s face had that ‘I’ve just been hit on the head with something very hard’ expression and he was breathing very heavily, as though he had just run a distance. 

“I don’t know, Hermione. I-I didn’t ch-choose anyone … It just happened.” Harry broke off when Ron rose and left abruptly, kicking the coffee table over on his way out.

Hermione and Harry both started at the sudden sound and Hermione sent Harry an apologetic look.

“He’ll get over it Harry,” she said, already twisting around and standing up. “Perhaps it’s best if you go now and I’ll write you tomorrow.”

Harry nodded, a little stung at the dismissal, even if he had expected it. Then on an impulse he lowered his shield against emotion a little bit. Anger instantly swamped into his mind; Ron’s anger. Harry had expected that, but it was the regret and … disgust? … that he felt from Hermione that left him feeling empty.

“Right, well take care, yeah?” he said feebly, resisting the urge to sniffle. Before Hermione could respond he pulled his head out of the fire and fell onto his bottom in Severus’ sitting room, the world spinning around him.

* * *

Severus knew that this wasn’t going to go well. With Weasley’s volatile personality and Granger’s tendency to pander to her boyfriend’s ridiculous tantrums, there was no way that this firecall was going to be even remotely successful. But he reassured Harry anyway. The two prats were important to his mate; therefore they deserved about one eight of a chance, collectively.

Harry’s shields trembled, just like Severus knew they would, so he took up a seat on the stone floor and grasped one of the boy’s perfect feet in his left hand. Harry’s shields stabilized. Good.

At first Severus listened in, and then he went back to reading, still stroking the warm appendage absentmindedly. He was brought back to his mate’s conversation sharply when Weasley asked about the identity of Harry’s mate. Not good, but not unexpected.

He remained neutral; if Harry wanted to tell them, then that was fine. If he didn’t then that was acceptable as well. And … he told. Three. Two. One. Fear flooded the bond. Weasley wasn’t taking it well. Severus put his book down. Ahh … the dramatic exit. Really, young Ronald would have been better off as young Ronda give his capacity for causing unneeded drama. 

Severus waited. More pain flowed into his mind and he contemplated just pulling Harry out of the fire, but before he could move Harry pulled himself out and landed with a thump on the cold stone floor. Big green eyes filled with tears and with a huff Severus scooped up his love and swept to the bedroom. 

Once on the bed he merely held Harry until the boy had cried himself out. He continued to hold his precious armful when the sobs subsided and he could hear deep even breaths being taken. He was still holding Harry when the boy awoke two hours later and blinked bleary eyes up into Severus’ face.

“I knew that it wouldn’t go over smoothly, I just thought that Hermione at least …” Harry sighed, bringing up his hands to wipe the dried tear tracks off of his face.

“They will adjust to the news,” said Severus, careful to avoid voicing his true opinion. “You just need to give them adequate time to do so.”

Harry nodded tiredly. “I’m not sorry,” he said suddenly, startling Severus with the viciousness in his voice. Severus felt one of his own eyebrows raise without any conscious instruction.

Harry quieted, leaning in to whisper, “I’m not sorry – that you’re my mate. I was a bit before, in the beginning, but I’m not anymore. Now I’m kinda glad.”

“I’m glad as well,” replied Severus stiffly, while his vampire crowed delightedly in his head. Ignoring the awkwardness of the moment, he leaned in and claimed soft pink lips and kissed the boy deeply, swallowing the breathy moans that his kiss evoked.

Far too soon for Severus’ liking, Harry pulled away and beamed up at him before rolling out of bed. 

“I’m going to grab a shower,” stated Harry, already moving to the lavatory door. Severus huffed out a sigh and nodded, trying to will away his body’s reaction …

Harry’s voice floated out from the washroom, dulled by the sound of falling water, “Want to join me?”

* * *

Harry made himself undress and slip into the shower at a human speed. He wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t afraid, he was not afraid. Ah … maybe he was a little bit afraid. Not _of Severus_ but rather of what they would do when the other man finally got in here…

Huh. Speaking of which, where was Severus? Harry cast a wandless _Tempus_ and checked the time. Two minutes. Okaaaaay. It definitely did not take two minutes to walk from the bed to the bathroom. Huh. Maybe Severus was getting undressed in the bedroom. That would make sense; he liked to keep things neat. Probably wanted to hang up his clothes and stuff. The idea of a naked Severus standing in their bedroom hanging up his robes made Harry’s cock twitch interestedly. Harry grabbed the shampoo to distract himself.

…

Six minutes … Hmm – Perhaps Severus got lost? It was rather tricky to navigate from the bed to the washroom … if you had your eyes closed and your feet and hands bound together. Huh. Harry stuck his head out of the shower. Nope. 

What the hell? All those times after the feedings, all those times when they were just lying there in bed and Sev was hard and acting all close and clingy, what did those times mean if his mate wouldn’t even _shower_ with him? 

And then it occurred to him; those times were all times when Severus’ vampire was really close to the surface, they were times when the vampire had most of the control. Harry shut off the water and sat down in the stall. Right, well that made sense. Severus the vampire wanted its mate but Severus the man probably didn’t want a bony little, scar covered, whore. Harry hung his head. Right.

“What are you doing?” Severus asked curiously from where he stood, peaking around the shower-stall door.

Harry shrieked, a high-pitched, girly screech that made him blush after he had finished. He hadn’t even noticed the washroom door open.

“I-I thought that you weren’t coming,” he stuttered, struggling to stand as Severus, a gloriously naked Severus, stepped into the shower and started the water again. 

“I wanted to give you time to rethink your offer” the stoic man clarified, reaching around Harry to snatch the soap from its shelf. 

Harry sucked in a breath as Severus’ wet chest made contact with his own. Severus had a perfectly sculpted chest. Not too big, not bulging and rippling like some bodybuilder’s, but each muscle was perfectly defined and stood out in stark relief amoungst the others. Harry didn’t step back, even though the stall was big enough to easily fit five other people. He peaked up through his sodden fringe to see Severus’ satisfied smirk.

“Why would I do that?” he asked in his best innocent voice. He shuffled closer, insinuating himself so that he was pressed up against Severus’ side, his mate’s hard length pressed heavily against his hip. Harry shivered at the feeling and ran his eyes up and down the older man’s body. Mmm … this was definitely a sight that he could get used to. Strong arms, a broad chest and shoulders, a stretch of solid muscle across a pale abdomen. Yes, please. 

Severus looked down at him and blinked. Blinked again. And then they were kissing and clinging and pressing and, oh yes right there, suddenly Harry’s whole world consisted of Severus’ tongue and Severus’ hands, and, by God yes! Severus’ hard cock grinding up against his own.

He whined when the perfect coolness of the Potions Master’s skin suddenly pulled away and he was left swaying dizzily by himself. 

“Harry, you have to tell me, you have to say how far this is going to go. I-I won’t be able to stop later if you don’t tell me now.”

Harry met Severus intense black gaze and nodded. “I want us to touch and kiss, An-and I want to taste you,” he stated, surprising himself with his own confidence and forwardness. He quirked his head. Yes, yes that was right. He _wanted_ to taste. Of his own free will. Curious. 

Severus blinked owlishly and then the onslaught started again, but this time with more vigor and less oxygen. Harry’s head swam at the pure heat of it. He clung as close to Severus’ cool body as he could as the clouds of steam pooled around them, feeling his body temperature rise. He gasped when Severus moved from his mouth down his neck and nipped lightly on one of his nipples. “Oh!” he gasped, shocked by the intensity of the feeling of Severus’ mouth. He rocked forward, trying to press more of himself against his mate’s body, into his mate’s questing mouth.

He was so _hard_. He’d never been this hard before, not even when Severus was drinking his blood. And it was glorious. As his temperature shot up, Harry drew Severus’ head back up and kissed all along the man’s chin and nose and parted lips and closed eyes. He swiped his tongue over Severus’ and then attacked Severus’ pulse point with his tongue and lips, sucking almost cruelly when a pair of strong arms tightened around him and a growl reverberated in the chest the he clung to. 

Pushing back, he barely registered the bruise on the pale neck that he’d been sucking on before he moved downwards, lavishing Severus’ beautiful chest and dusky nipples with his tongue. 

He knelt down and continued his exploration. He smirked when he heard Severus’ breath hitch and looked up into the older man’s face. Passionate eyes gazed out of a face that bordered between pleasure and pain. Harry pulled back from where he had been licking over Severus’ navel. He froze when a deep, warning growl echoed off of the tiles in the shower.

“Are you alright?” he asked tentatively. 

Severus nodded shakily and cleared his throat then closed his eyes. The man had his arms spread, one hand braced against the wall, the other on the glass wall of the stall.

When the obsidian eyes opened again they held less depth, and Severus’ voice was more his own. “Yes, Merlin yes. I-I just … the vampire …” The muscles in his upper arms bulged and his fingers squeaked against the steam covered glass. 

Harry nodded. “Do you need me to stop?” He didn’t want to stop, but if this was too much …

“No! I mean, no, not if you don’t want to.” One large hand came down and caressed his face, running gently through his hair.

Instead of replying Harry leaned forward and licked a line south from Severus’ navel, following his treasure trail, to the tip of his cock, which was lying flat up against his stomach. 

He took a moment to pull back and just look. Severus panted heavily above him, but Harry took his time. His mate’s cock was hard and pulsing, a deep purple mushroomed head topping a straining red length. Harry took the length in his hand and pumped it slowly. The velvet skin felt like it was moving over a bar of steel. Eight – almost nine – inches. And the smell … it was a musky, deep, powerful scent that smelt just right. Harry smiled and took the head in his mouth. And then he came, violently, all over himself. 

He jerked back, careful not to land any teeth where they would hurt Severus the most. The _taste_ was divine. It was his _mate_ and it was so good. He panted through his orgasm, clinging tightly to Severus’ hips, and when he once again regained his senses he was cradled in Severus’ arms, his head resting against one broad shoulder. 

He struggled to get down and flushed red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… I just…“ Harry broke off, backing away and folding into himself with frustration. Their _first time_ doing something like that and he just had to go and ruin it.

Large hands framed his face and a thumb gently brushed away the stray tears. Harry looked up tentatively. Severus’ gaze drilled into him.

“Shush. You ruined nothing. We are mates. With that fact alone, I am surprised that you lasted as long as you did. Factor in your age …” Severus broke of with a laugh. “And don’t think that it doesn’t do wonders for my confidence that you came without even a touch!” Severus bent and gathered Harry into a soul-searching kiss.

“Next time we will endeavor to make the experience last,” he said when they broke apart. 

“Next time?” asked Harry, glancing shyly down at Severus’ angry-looking member. “What about you?”

Severus shook his head, “Do not worry, I will take care of it.” With that the taller man turned and picked up the soap that he had dropped earlier. 

“Oh. But I wanted to – to take care of – of it for you” said Harry, reaching forward and wrapping his hand around his prize.

Severus gave an involuntary thrust up into his grasp. “I-I don’t want to you feel pressured,” he hissed out through clenched teeth, though his actions belayed his words when he pulled Harry closer and caressed his lower back slowly. 

Harry shook his head and smiled, before kneeling back down and resuming where he had left off. The second taste was just as _good_ , and Harry was glad that he couldn’t come twice in a row so close together, or else he would have come again. He spent a good while just licking up and down, following the full vein that ran along the underside with the tip of his tongue, and teasing the slit at the tip just enough to make Severus moan deeply in his throat. 

He was ready for it when Severus suddenly moved the hand that had been stroking over his face to the nape of his neck and guided him down further. Using his hands, he reached around Severus and pulled the man in deeper and deeper until … yes. Harry “hummed” around the thick shaft that filled his mouth when he heard the gasp and low growl that came from above him when the head hit the back of his throat. 

“Harry! Oh Merlin, slow down! Gods, if you keep doing that, oh yess … Harrrrry!” Harry felt Severus’ cock thicken in his mouth and pulled back, keeping just the head in his mouth.

* * *

Merlin, Circe, Athena and all things magical! The _sight_ of the boy, his lips stretched wide around his cock, his eyes glancing up to seek approval, his little pink tongue darting out every so often … it was almost more than Severus could handle. 

It was to most exquisite type of torture and Severus could feel the vampire, prowling just below the surface, urging him to thrust and claim and bite and drink … Severus shook his head and oh so gently pulled Harry closer. He was prepared to pull back if his mate showed any discomfort, but what he wasn’t prepared for was for Harry to reach around and pull him all the way down his throat. The heat made Severus knees buckle, and he felt the tightening in his lower belly that told him that this would be over far too soon.

“Harry! Oh Merlin, slow down! Gods, if you keep doing that, oh yess … Harrrrry!” And suddenly he was coming, hips jerking, head spinning, eyes rolling … and the heat went on and on. When the quakes subsided a bit Severus looked down, just in time to see Harry lick the last bit of his come from the tip of his cock and then from the corner of his mouth. The boy had swallowed everything …

With a growl that rumbled through his chest, Severus sank to his knees and kissed Harry, invading his mouth and wrapping himself around his small body. He pulled back sooner than he wanted to, to let Harry breathe and stood slowly. Harry was barely there, swaying where he stood ensconced in Severus’ arms, his eyes half closed and a spaced out look on his peaceful face. Severus held him carefully, propped against his own body as he washed them both briskly and rinsed them off. Harry moved to comply with what Severus’ wanted to do, but most just leaned heavily against the other man.

Severus stepped lightly out of the shower and chuckled when Harry swayed towards him automatically, small hands reaching out to try to find where Severus had gone. The chuckle ended abruptly when Severus saw the look of discomfort on Harry’s face and he quickly spelled them both dry and pulled the boy close. Harry settled immediately and sagged against him, murmuring contentedly and making soft, sleepy sounds. Severus gathered him into his arms and stepped into the bedroom, laying them both down on the bed and covering them with the blankets. 

Harry snuffled and shuffled closer, lying more on top of Severus than next to him. Severus stroked his hand through damp black hair and settled himself comfortably, keeping a watchful eye on Harry’s dreams as he began to drift.

* * *

A big, huge thank you to all of the awesome people who left reviews for the last chapter! I really do appreciate them more than I can tell you.   
Also, credit must be given to Quaff, for the scene in which Hermione catches the snitch ... it was an answer to her request "to see someone catching a snitch unexpectedly" - I hope that it was what you wanted :)  
And ... a warm thank you to my beta, jiggnbatty, for her patience with my horrible spelling in this chapter ... how did I get so lucky as to find such an amazing beta?  
Thanks to everyone for reading, and please, please leave a review, only about 20 more to go until the next request :)  
well-wishes all around!   
until the next chapter,  
Steppenwolf


	16. When You Have No Choice

  
Author's notes: ...  


* * *

Not mine, no money being made ... full disclaimer and warnings found on the menu for this story ... Happy Reading!

* * *

1204 … 1205 … 1206 … Perfect. Harry carefully placed the final tiny whottler seed in the beaker and pushed to cork in so that it fit snuggly. Placing the beaker filled with the hundreds of miniscule red seeds back in its place in the potions storeroom, he checked his list and grabbed container of wuphler wings and brought it over to his work table. Setting the container down, he stared speculatively at his calculation filled parchment. 

Okay … this ingredient was used in the forth, fifth, and sixth year curriculum. Each year used them in two separate potions, and there were going to be four classes using the wings. So, twenty-eight, plus twenty-nine, plus thirty-one, plus thirty-six – times two, plus ….

Harry bit his lip, lost in thought. 4569. That seemed right. He double checked the math. Yes – the students would need 4569, including the extra 120 in case of accidents. Harry smiled slightly and poured the wings cautiously into his counting dish. 1 … 2 … 3 …

“What in the world are you doing?” Severus’ voice sounded from the door to the potions lab. Harry’s head shot up and he wrote down the last number that he had counted before he lost his place.

“I’m organizing the ingredients,” he said, turning to face his mate as the older man came down the stairs and stepped closer.

“The ingredients have already been organized. In fact, you did a large portion of the organization yourself in detention last year.” Severus quirked an eyebrow and looked Harry over speculatively. “Are you alright Harry?”

Harry huffed and turned back to his table. 

“The ingredients were organized alphabetically, but I’m going through and making sure that you have that right amounts of everything. I’ve been putting the extra stuff back in the larger store room.” Harry picked up the tweezers that he had been using to count the wings, ignoring Severus’ last question.

“You know, it’s perfectly acceptable for you to be anxious about tomorrow.” Harry jumped when he suddenly felt Severus press close up behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. 

Harry turned in the loose embrace and leveled an irritated glare up at the other man’s face. 

“I’m not ‘anxious’, I’m bloody terrified! What if I loose control, or my shields fall, or … or …” Harry sighed and laid his head against Severus’ chest. He had never dreaded the first day of school before, but this year …

“If there is any sort of problem, you know that I will come and rectify it for you,” said Severus soothingly, running his hands up and down Harry’s slumped back. “Also, you have to have more faith in yourself. Aerial said that you are ready, and you know that your shields are remarkably stronger than they were last week,” Severus trailed off, cursing, not for the first time, the cruel twist of fate that had his and Harry’s initial bonding occur only two weeks before the start of term. Not that he would tell Harry, but the idea of being so far from his mate, for such a prolonged period of time after the last few weeks without notable separation made him want to cringe. 

“I know …,” sighed Harry, packing up the pile of wings and sending them back into the store room with just a glance. If his last few lessons with Aerial had showed him anything, it was that his new powers allowed him to do much more than he’d ever dreamed. He leaned up and kissed Severus on the cheek, before ducking out of the man’s arms and climbing the stairs to their rooms. He _knew_ that it would probably fine the next day; he’d been doing alright this past week, eating breakfast in the great hall, and mingling with the other professors as they set up their classrooms for the year. He knew that Severus would come get him if anything went wrong … but still. Just the idea of so many people, so much magic, and all of the emotions flying around gave him a headache. Harry plopped down on the couch and sighed again. Couldn’t they just stay in their rooms for the rest of their lives? Bunching a cushion under his head, Harry closed his eyes, willing away the tension that had been coiled in his stomach for the last few days. Tomorrow would be fine – tomorrow would be fine – tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.

* * *

It started at three o’clock; just a searing, burning flash of pain, then nothing. Then it faded to a dull ache. For a moment Severus didn’t understand. He yanked back his left sleeve and stared blankly at the angry green and black brand twisting morbidly on his forearm. Then it clicked and he sprang into action.

He threw up a shield between Harry and himself, careful not to wake the boy whom was still sleeping peacefully on the couch. Then he went and changed into the appropriate robes. The ache persisted but did not get any worse. The Dark Lord was calling him to a private meeting, and thank Merlin, he wasn’t angry, so he couldn’t know anything about Harry. Severus swept into the washroom and grabbed three vials of the suppressant – his last three vials. Then he went silently back into the sitting room. 

To wake Harry, or not to wake Harry? Severus ran his hand gently through the boy’s soft hair and listened to his mate’s calm breathing. No. He wasn’t going to wake Harry; the boy would only insist that he not go. That couldn’t happen, for both of their sakes he had to go and lie and grovel and come back as soon as physically possible. 

Severus sighed, his stomach already rebelling at the idea of swallowing the horrible suppressant, his heart shying from the very idea. Quickly, before Harry could awake, he summoned a piece of parchment and a quill, jotted a quick note and placed it on the table, swallowed one bitter portion of the suppressant, threw some Floo powder into the fire and stepped through. As the world dissolved into the wall of emerald flame he could have sworn that he heard Harry scream his name.

* * *

“SEVERUS!” screamed Harry at the top of his lungs, coming awake so suddenly that his head spun and the world went blurry. He jumped up and spun in place, desperately searching for the cause of the horrible, wrenching, burning, cutting pain that filled the place where the bond had once been. 

“SEVERUS! SEV!! SNAPE! SEVERUS!” Harry bellowed as he searched their rooms frantically, not bothering to run but instead just popping from room to room, finding each empty.

Blink. Severus wasn’t in the school library.

Blink. He wasn’t in the potions classroom. He wasn’t in the Great Hall or the Astronomy tower, or the Slytherin common room. He wasn’t outside, or with Hagrid, or in the staff room.

By the time Harry appeared in Dumbledore’s office there were tears streaming down his face and his eyes were wild with fear. 

“Where is he? Where’s Severus?" he demanded, startling the Headmaster from his nap. “SEVERUS!” Harry bellowed, just barely hanging on to his sanity. 

“Harry! Whatever is the matter? Where is Severus?” Albus stood and quickly went to Harry’s side, trying to calm the shaking teen. But Harry didn’t want to be calmed; as soon as he saw that Albus didn’t know where Severus was he disappeared without a sound. Albus frowned and walked quickly over to his fireplace, throwing in a handful of floo powder calling out “The Guilded Sword …”

Severus was gone and Harry found himself back in their sitting room gasping for breath and pounding at his searing chest. 

There was nothing. No bond, no connection, no whisper of where Severus had gone. Harry ran desperately around their rooms again, his eyes filled with tears, his breath coming in short pants. Not here. Not here!

“Severus! Sev, Severus please. Sev … Sev …” Harry sobbed out, falling to the floor in their bedroom when his world began to dim, the room spinning violently around him. But he couldn’t stop. He had to find Sev. Sev was in danger. Mate in danger. Harry pulled himself up, half crawling, half fumbling to the hallway. Had to find Dumbledore. Aerial. Someone “… Sev … sev … se…”

* * *

Harry woke screaming again. But this time no more than a rasping, gasping sound made its way past his lips. Someone placed a cup of Aerial’s cool tea to his mouth and he took a long sip, the liquid soothing his raw throat and making coherent thought more possible. He was in their sitting room, lying on the couch, and it was Aerial who was holding up his head and helping him drink.

He pushed himself up when she moved the cup away and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“Where’s Sev?” he demanded, his voice hoarse and grating.

Aerial looked down at him sadly, her deep maroon eyes soft and sympathetic.

“Hush Harry. Severus had to go away for a little while. Go back to sleep little one.” She ran her hand soothingly through his hair, and for a moment he settled, leaning into her touch. But then her words started to permeate the fog of pain and fuzziness that clouded his brain. With what seemed like a monumental amount of effort, he pulled himself to his feet and brushed off her concerned hands.

“What? Where? Where did he go? He wouldn’t just _go_ and leave me here. Where is he?!” Harry cast around frantically, as though the answer to his question could be found on the cold stone floor. 

And then he saw it; in the coffee table was a small slip of parchment that held only three horrible words. _I’ve been summoned._

No. No no no no! Not now. Not ever! Harry felt himself fall to his knees and felt the rushing, swirling, invigorating feeling of his power climbing to the surface, ready to be used. 

No! Voldemort had taken so many others, so many others, the bloody bastard was not going to take his mate too! Concentrating all of his energy, Harry prepared to bring Severus back. And just as he let go, just as he unleashed the torrent that would bring Sev back, he felt it; Aerial’s magic overtook him like a wave, crashing into him and drowning out his own power. 

Shocked, he turned to her, ready to yell and scream and hit. But his didn’t. Aerial held up her hand for silence and Harry found himself unable to speak.

“I know Harry. I know that it hurts and that you want him back. But if you try to bring him back right now you will drain yourself and you will kill him,” Aerial said and Harry glared at her hard with pained eyes. He knew that it would be hard to bring Sev back. It was hard enough to summon a ball from across the Qudditch pitch. But this wasn’t a ball, this was _his mate_ and Harry would rather die trying to bring Severus back to him than have Voldemort even look at his love. He gasped again as a sharp pain speared up and down his left arm and doubled over, clutching at his throbbing limb. A moment later the pain had dulled to an ache and Harry understood; something had hurt Severus’ arm and he was sharing the pain. He growled lowly in his throat and realized that he could speak again.

Turning to Aerial he summoned his wand from where he’d left it in their bedroom and pointed it straight at the woman’s head.

“That fucking bastard has my MATE and I know that you know what it bloody feels like to be separated so forgive me if I tell you that I don’t give a flying fuck if you don’t think that I’m strong enough! I’m going to bring Sev back and you can either help me or get the hell out of here!”

With that Harry whirled and stormed towards the fireplace. He clenched his wand tightly in his right hand and concentrated on lighting the fire, which took a good three tries because of the pounding pain in his head. He would go after Sev through the fire, stick his head through, summon the man and drag them both backwards into the safety of their rooms. Fast. Easy. All that he had to do was find the address that Sev had floo-ed to. Just as he let his power out to open the last Floo connection, he felt it again. Aerial’s magic surrounded him and pushed his own power back into his body.

Harry spun, his eyes flaming and a curse hanging on his tongue. That woman was going to _pay_ if she did that again.

“STOP!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. “HE HAS MY MATE! I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING TO HIM BECAUSE THERE’S NO FUCKING BOND – NONE AT ALL! SEV COULD BE FUCKING D-DEAD … oh my god” Harry’s knees buckled as the thought hit him like a brick over his head. No. Not dead. No no no no.

And suddenly he was being lifted in a pair of thin arms and cradled against a soft chest. His head spun and throbbed and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he desperately clung to Aerial. He could hear soft shushing noises but couldn’t calm down. He couldn’t breath and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop the tears pouring from his eyes. He felt Aerial sit down with him on her lap but didn’t make a move to get off, instead he just clung tighter to the front on her shirt.

“Hush Harry. I know love, I know … Trust me; you can make it through this. Trust me …” Aerial murmured to the distraught boy in her arms. It broke her heart to see Harry like this. It was too close, too close. She’d been just like this when Daemon had left and her soul cried out for the suffering that she knew Harry was going through. Still cooing quietly into Harry’s ear, she slowly ran her hand through his hair, like she’d seen Severus do time after time, and carefully let a trickle of her power wash over his sobbing frame. Slowly – oh so slowly, Harry calmed down and his sobbing turned into muffled whimpering and hiccupping.

“It will be alright Harry. Trust me. Severus is going to come back to you and he will be fine. You just have to wait. If I could I would take him from that horrid place right now, but his tie to Voldemort would kill him before I could take him to you. So you just have to wait. Just rest Harry. I know it hurts – just try to sleep. Hush now …” 

And whether it was because of Aerial’s soothing voice, or because of the calming influence that he could feel coming off of her in waves, Harry felt his eyes closing and his vision slowly faded to black …

* * *

Forty-One Minutes

Harry shivered himself awake. He was so cold. And he _hurt_ all over. It was so much worse than when he’d come into his inheritance. He couldn’t help himself; he cried. He cried for Sev and he cried for help. 

A cool cup was pressed to his lips and he drank, falling back to sleep before he even opened his eyes.

* * *

One hour and two minutes

“Severus, Sev, Severus please. Please just come home. Come back Sev … please …” Harry whimpered pitifully, curling in on himself, ignoring the feel of blood soaking into the back of his shirt, ignoring the floppiness of his arm. “Sev please …”

* * *

One hour and twenty-seven minutes

“Ahh! Aerial! What’s happening?” cried Harry clutching his left arm close. He’d been sleeping – mostly. And then he’d heard a _crack_ and his arm had exploded in pain so much worse than it had been earlier.

Aerial’s face floated into his blurry vision and he could see, even through his tears, that her face was drawn and worried, her lips had all but disappeared into a pinched line. 

“Hush Harry, here let me see. That’s it, good boy. Okay, it looks like it’s broken. No, don’t move it. I’m going to set it and wrap it so that Sev can heal it for you when he comes back. Just lie still and I’ll get you one of Sev’s pain potions. That’s it. Close your eyes.” Aerial breathed a deep sigh, her eyes flashing a dangerous orange-gold before morphing into a deep maroon of sympathy. She was going to _kill_ Severus for taking that damned suppressant. Her hands shook as she carefully set and bound Harry’s arm; she’d heal it herself, but it needed to be healed by the boy’s _mate_. His body was regressing again, his injuries reappearing because his system thought that it was being rejected. Oh Severus wasn’t going to know what hit him …

“He’s not coming back. Not for me. Not coming back … Doesn’t …love me.” She barely caught the whispers as Harry fell back asleep, but it broke her heart to hear because she knew, she knew what it felt like to be in so much pain that the only thing that you could think about was it being over.

* * *

Two hours and seventeen minutes

Harry was writhing on the couch, small cries making their way past his clenched teeth. Aerial was sitting on the floor by his head, trying to hold him still so that he didn’t hurt himself anymore than was already done. Harry’s injuries were back. Nearly all of them. The cuts, the broken bones, the bruising itself seemed to cover every inch from his head to his toes. Agony. Everything about the way the boy moved, breathed, gasped, just screamed agony. 

And then the floo flared to life and a haggard, limping, and completely feral looking Severus Snape stumbled out, clutching his left arm to his chest. For one moment there was complete silence and everyone froze. Severus stared at Harry, his eyes pitch black and haunted, his fangs bared and his face twisted into a fierce scowl of pain. Harry stared at Severus not even daring to breath.

Then all of a sudden the two exploded into motion. Harry flew into Severus arms and wailed at the pain from his broken leg and ankle. Severus let out a terrifying growl and cradled Harry softly, clutching him close and raining kisses all over his little mate’s face, neck and head. Harry sobbed, berating Severus in broken, gasping breaths for leaving, for not telling him, for making it hurt so fucking bad. Severus barely held back his tears, accepting every accusation, every insult, every blow that Harry landed on his arms and shoulders. He was exhausted and in so much pain that all that he wanted to do was curl up with Harry and lay in their bed forever. 

He felt a pair of cool hands on his left and spun, shielding Harry with his body before he realized that Aerial was just healing his broken arm. He was too far gone to thank her; the vampire had far too much control to make coherent speech possible. So instead he met her furious orange eyes and nodded his head once sharply. Aerial glared, made a jabbing motion with her hand towards the pitcher of tea on the coffee table and disappeared with a snap.

* * *

The trip to the bedroom took infinitely too long for Severus’ taste. His vampire was panicked and wild from the separation from his mate, his body ached from the abuse that it had endured over the last two hours, and seeing the horrible state that Harry was in compounded his restlessness tenfold. He couldn’t see straight or think straight, his creature was so frantic for its mate.

He couldn’t pick Harry up properly because of the boy’s injuries, so he supported most of his slight weight as he led Harry down the hall into their room. It was clear his mate was nearly delirious, whether from the pain, the separation, or because of a combination of the two, Severus didn’t know. All he knew was that if he didn’t bite Harry _right now_ his vampire was going to go insane.

As soon as Harry was laid out on the bed, Severus leant down and sunk his fangs into the boy’s pale neck, so intent upon his goal that he didn’t see the bruises that marred the usually clear flesh, didn’t hear the pained sob that accompanied the bite. At once his mind was filled with a chorus of _”Mine, mate mate, mine mate, blood. Blood, so good mate’s blood”_ and he drank deeply, relishing in the feel of the hot liquid running down his throat. He slowed his desperate swallowing as he felt the healing effects of his mate’s blood rush through his body, soothing the ache that the suppressant had caused, and healing the effects of Voldemort’s _fun_. 

After several long minutes Severus pulled back gently, nuzzling Mate’s cheek and laving the puncture wounds with his tongue. He licked until there was a healing layer of pink skin and then kissed lightly along Mate’s neck and jaw before taking the supple lips and kissing them heavily. It felt so _right_ , so bloody _good_ , except … why wasn’t Mate kissing him back?

Severus pulled back abruptly, his human mind flaring to control instantly. Mate was Harry. Harry wasn’t moving. Harry wasn’t _breathing_. Severus jumped up and ran out into the hall, thundering down the steps into his potions lab. He searched frantically through his enchanted cabinet throwing vials all over the floor before he gathered an armful of the potions he needed before he sped back to Harry’s side. 

“Harry. Harry wake up. Wake up love. Oh gods please wake up,” he begged, quickly but gently pouring two blood replenishers and a healing drought down Harry’s throat and massaging the still neck until he saw the muscles swallow reflexively. He cradled Harry’s head in his hands and waited for ten very tense seconds before Harry coughed and inhaled, the breath rasping loudly in the otherwise silent room.

Green eyes fluttered open and then clenched tightly shut and a small hand shot out and grabbed tightly onto Severus’ wrist. Tears leaked from the corners of Harry’s eyes and a small whimpering sound escaped the boy’s lips. The guilt hit Severus like a brick wall. And he smoothed the hair back out of Harry’s eyes, leaning down and kissing the creased forehead softly.

“It’s alright. You’ll be alright Harry; I’m going the heal you now and everything will be just fine,” he whispered, still caressing the side of Harry’s face with his left hand; the boy had a death grip on his left wrist and didn’t seem to want to let go. With his other hand Severus drew his wand and started healing all of the damage that he could sense. 

Once he was sure that any internal injuries were healed, and Harry’s breathing settled, he pulled back carefully and stood, making shushing noises when his mate tried to sit up and move with him.

“It’s alright love,” he said, quickly slipping out of his dirty robes and trousers and tenderly lifting Harry so that he could pull back the bedspread and tuck the shivering boy in. “It’s alright,” he whispered softly, lying down and spooning up behind his mate, inhaling that scent that he had missed so bloody much .

“St-stay,” murmured Harry as his heavy eyes drifted shut. It didn’t escape Severus’ notice that Harry had grasped one of Severus’ own hands in both of his small warm ones. The grip would have been painful hand Severus been human. As he wasn’t, it served more as a reassurance. 

“Forever, Imp. Now hush; go to sleep.” Severus placed a soft kiss on the top of Harry’s unruly hair and listened to the boy’s breathing slowed and became deeper. Finally contented at having his mate safe in his arms, Severus pulled the other’s slight body closer and settled down to drift whilst Harry slept.

* * *

I'm so very sorry that this took so long. I thought that when school finally ended I'd actually have time to write - but apparently real life has decided to capture my muse and keep the poor thing hostage in an unforgiving iron cage.

Updates should be quicker from now on ....

Also, Thank You! to all those wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter - I am immensely grateful for all of your kind words! And a big-huge thanks to my wonderfully patient beta - jigginbatty - for all of her hard work!

And, just one last thing, I know I said a couple of chapters ago about taking one request for every 100th review ... but I've changed my mind - the request now goes to every 50th reviewer - so just 7 more until 150 and the next request :)

I hope that the warm weather finds you all happy and well!  
Until the next chapter,  
Steppenwolf


	17. The Morning After the Night Before

  
Author's notes: ...  


* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine, except Aerial and the Abeo species ... , no money being made, or else I'd be able to pay my rent ... , flames will be ignored ...

Please feel free to refer to chapter one for a full disclaimer and the full list of warnings ... this chapter rated M for language and angst

Happy Reading!

______________________________________________________

Tea, Remus decided, was not as relaxing as the general public accredited it as being. In fact, after your fourteenth or so cup of the stuff, tea began to have rather the opposite effect. Which was why Remus found himself twitching at every little creak and chirp and rustle that reached his ears, and considering his very impressive hearing and the extremely early nature of the hour, he was really quite jumpy. 

“Remus?”

“Wah!”

Though his name had been whispered Remus leaped to his feet and spun, successfully spilling his cold tea all over himself and sending a very surprised Hermione jerking back a foot or two. 

Recovering from her scare, Hermione stepped quietly into the dim light of the Weasleys' kitchen, pulling her robe tight to ward against the early morning chill. Remus shot her a rather self-deprecating grin, banishing the spilt tea with his wand and chuckling at his own jumpiness. 

“Hermione? What are you doing up so early?” Remus sat back down at the large kitchen table, one hand resting around his now empty mug, and gave Hermione an inquisitive look. 

“Oh, nothing really. I always seem to get up earlier than usual on the day we have to go back.” Hermione sat down across from her old professor and gratefully accepted the hot mug that he passed to her, after having conjured a steaming fresh pot.

Remus smiled tiredly. “Ah yes. I was like that too when I was your age. No matter how many alarms I set the night before, there was always that lingering fear that I might oversleep and miss the train.”

Hermione laughed softly at the thought of a young Remus so eager to return to Hogwarts at summer's end, and blew across the steaming surface of her tea before taking a sip. Remus smiled again and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. 

It was quiet in the kitchen; the homey space seemed oddly peaceful in a house that was so typically bustling with movement and the sounds of everyday living. The only noise was the steady 'tick tock' of Molly's enchanted clock, and the muted chirping of the wakening birds singing from the garden. It wasn't often that Hermione rose with the sun and she took a few minutes to simply enjoy the calm of the early hour.

“Um, I was wondering, Sir ...” she started, trailing off when Remus looked up from the newspaper that he had summoned from the counter. 

“Yes?” 

“What happened with the Dursleys?”

Remus frowned and grimaced. She would have to ask _that_ particular question wouldn't she, the very question that had roused him from his nice warm bed so incredibly early this morning. The same question that had him steadily drinking is way through enough tea to give himself a caffeine-induced heart attack. Remus sighed.

“Nothing as of yet. They are contained to their house except to go to work and the market and such. Dumbledore insists that Harry should have the final say concerning the repercussions for their _actions_.”

He couldn't stop the growl that escaped at the thought of what those _things_ had done to his best friend's son. Apparently Hermione shared his hatred, as a scowl flitted across her face and he could hear her sharp exhalation of air. 

“Has he spoken to Harry about it yet?” Hermione asked, clenching her hands tight around her mug.

“No ... Harry and his mate are having a bit of trouble adjusting to their new situation and Albus believes it would be best to wait until their bond settles a bit before introducing more stress.” And as much as it irked Remus to just let the Durselys go on about their lives unpunished, he could see that logic in Albus' approach. The very last thing that Harry needed right then was more stress. 

Despite her anger, Hermione found herself laughing. “Yeah, I can imagine Harry and Snape have a bit more _adjusting_ to do.”

They both chuckled together before Hermione suddenly slapped her hand over her mouth and stared wide-eyed at Remus. 

“Oh I can't believe I just said that. Harry is going to be so upset. He was so nervous just telling Ron and me!” Great. Wonderful. Now she had gone and told Remus who Harry's mate was without Harry's permission. What sort of idiot ...

Remus reached across the table and patted her arm reassuringly. “It's quite alright Hermione. I already knew; Albus told me where Harry was and who he was with that day that Harry sent us the letter. Though you are right. We can't go around telling anyone else unless Harry gives express permission. You know how dangerous that would be for the pair of them.”

Hermione nodded quickly. She really hadn't meant to tell; it was just that the idea of Harry and Professor Snape living together, having to coexist in closed quarters was hilarious. 

“When did Harry tell you about Severus?” Remus asked, getting up and grabbing a bowl of fresh strawberries that had been sitting under a cooling charm on the counter. 

“The day before yesterday? Or perhaps that day before that,” answered Hermione, grabbing a berry at Remus' offer.

“I hope that you two didn't take it too hard. According to Albus, they have been having some real trouble settling in together. I wouldn't be surprised if we don't see either of them for the first month of term, or even longer,” Remus said pensively. It was true that he was worried about Harry; he was always worried about Harry. But the safest place for his (unofficial) godson to be was with his mate, even if said individual was the snarky bastard Severus Snape. Plus, Harry would need all of the support that he could get. Once it got out to the public that Harry Potter was mated to an ex-Death Eater, the backlash would be enormous.

“Well, actually,” the young witch hung her head. This was still a sore spot between her and Ron. Why couldn't he just see that it wasn't a matter of choice?

“What happened?” Remus demanded and Hermione flinched at his harsh tone.

“It wasn't me,” she said somewhat defensively. “Ron just doesn't understand that Harry didn't choose Professor Snape.”

Remus schooled his features into a more relaxed expression. Ron's temper was a force to be reckoned with, even coming from a family of Weasleys.

“Ahh, I see. I guess that was only to be expected though. But how was he when you were talking to him? I haven't seen him since the end of last year ...” Remus trailed off when he saw the confusion on his companion's face.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, not quite understanding what Remus was asking.

“Well, how did he say he was when it was just the two of you? I'd imagine that Ron probably threw a bit of a wobbly and stormed off, so you must have had a bit of a chance to speak with him?”

“Huh.” Hermione ducked her head and stared intently at the table, “Um, actually when Ron went off I went after him to calm him down ...” Which, thinking back, was probably not the smartest of moves.

“Oh.” There was disappointment written all over Remus' tired face and he couldn't fathom what else to say.

Luckily before the silence that stretched became too uncomfortable Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves and brandishing her wand, making the curtains and windows sweep open.

“Oh! Good morning Remus, Hermione. You both scared me there; I wasn't expecting anyone to be up just yet. I hope you both slept well? I'm just going to put a spot of breakfast on. Hermione dear, why don't you go get ready before the others all crowd the washroom?”

Hermione rose quickly, putting her mg in the sink and hurrying toward the stairs. “Sure thing Mrs. Weasley. I'll be right back to help with breakfast.”

She heard Remus and Mrs. Weasley talking quietly as she gathered her things and headed to the lavatory, and couldn't help but hope that Remus wouldn't mention how the meeting with Harry had gone. She knew that she hadn't handled that well and was glad that they would at least have a chance to talk to Harry later today at the feast.

 

Severus came around to a pounding headache and an empty bed. The space next to him, Harry's spot, was cold – telling him that it had been at least an hour since Harry had last lain there. He was stiff and sore, a testament to the brutality of the previous evening, and as he turned his head and sat up a series of pops and cracks sounded from various joints and vertebrae.

Severus sat still for a moment. Why was his mind so fogged? Where was Harry? And most importantly: why had he not been aware of his mate leaving?

The answer to two of these questions lay on the bed in the Harry-sized divot. Two empty vials. Frowning, Severus brought one of the vials to his nose and sniffed. Murlap, pumpkin root ... and cranberry? These had been vials of Dreamless Sleep potions that he had stocked up in the cabinet for his mate. Had he given Harry a double dose?

No, of course not. Harry had given them to _him_ , he realized as he rolled his tongue around his mouth and tasted a faint essence of cranberry. The cranberry was just for flavouring, he had wanted to impress his mate and make the normally putrid concoction pleasant, but the flavouring also told him that he himself had not taken the potion because he would have taken one out of his unflavoured stock. 

Severus stood up and went quickly to shower and dress. This was not good. Harry had drugged him. And while it was an incredibly stupid and idiotic thing to have done, Severus could not muster up the anger that he would have typically felt. If Harry had drugged him last night, or this morning, it wasn't because the brat was trying to annoy him, it was because Harry was very, very angry.

As he finished donning his robes Severus realized quite suddenly that there was an impressively intimidating oak tree stationed defensively in the back of his mind. Drat.

Sweeping off to the kitchen, Severus subtly checked his wards and let out a relieved sigh when he found that no one had entered or left their rooms in the last 12 hours. Good. At least Harry had stayed close by.

Intent upon making an amazing breakfast, and with his vampire nattering away about expensive gifts and angry mates, Severus didn't notice Harry watching him from the siting area until a calm voice broke through his focus.

“You're up early,” Harry said, laying down the book he had been reading. His tone, Severus noted, was neither warm nor particularly cold. The Potions Master carefully took the omelet off of the heat before he stepped cautiously around the counter. 

At Severus' confused look, Harry continued, “The Dreamless shouldn't have worn off for another three or four hours at least.” Harry glanced at his watch before continuing, “more like four and a half; it's only about four now.”

Severus felt his eyebrows hit his hairline. “Four in the morning? How long have you been up?” Harry was never up before eight, and even then it was a struggle.

Harry scowled, but then his face went blank. “I dunno. Since one or two. You were ... _crowding_ me a bit.” With that Harry calmly got up, grabbed his book and went into their study. Severus winced when the door 'snicked' shut.

Alright, perhaps “angry” was an understatement.

 

Forty-five minutes later Severus tapped on the study door, two food laden trays hovering next to him. He had made an omelette (bacon, mushroom, green onions, and cheese – just as Harry liked it), toast, fruit salad, extra bacon, and cornmeal muffins. He didn't quite understand the “bacon” - long thin strips of very crispy, extremely unhealthy pork – but Harry had told him that it was a muggle thing, apparently more common in North America, and that he had always enjoyed it but was never allowed any at the Dursley's. So Severus made point in ensuring the house elves always had a package on hand. Along with the first tray was a second, overflowing with tea, strawberry and blueberry jam, marmalade, ketchup (another mystifying muggle tendency), sugar, cutlery, butter, milk and juice. He could have easily called for a breakfast tray from the kitchens, but he knew he had a lot of apologizing to do, and he took great satisfaction in cooking for his mate.

The door swung open after a moment of silence and Severus stepped in, preceded by the two trays, to find Harry curled up in his favourite armchair reading. He approached the boy softly, careful not to get too close. 

When Harry didn't lift his head or acknowledge Severus' presence, Severus cleared his throat and said, “I've brought some breakfast, if you are hungry.”

Harry finally looked up and met his gaze. Severus held back a flinch as he took in his mate's appearance. The normally glowing green eyes were dull and tired, deep purple rings beneath contrasted the too-pale skin that was marred by a yellowish bruise that stretched from the right side of Harry's jaw up onto his cheek. Severus sadly noted that Harry had changed into his old clothes: a hideous pair of jeans that were secured by a faded and fraying belt, and a t-shirt large enough to house the Russian Circus draped from around a thin waist and over tense shoulders. Not that Severus would admit it, but it hurt that Harry would rather wear these abominable rags than the clothes that Severus had lent him.

“You know,” said Harry, completely dismissing Severus' earlier comment, “I've been reading about Abeo bonds and I found something really interesting.” Harry waved the book that he held in his hand and Severus saw that it was indeed the book on bonding that Aerial had lent them. 

“Oh?” murmured Severus, a knot of worry settling in his stomach as he eased himself into the chair across from Harry's.

“Yeah. It says here that once and Abeo and their mate are bonded, even if they haven't consummated yet, there is no natural way for the bond to be blocked completely. It says that it would have to be done by a potion or a curse. Did you know that?” 

Harry's face was still a calm mask and Severus found that he couldn't meet his mate's eyes. 

“Yes. I knew that. It is the same for a vampire bond, only after consummation,” he said, studiously studying the space above Harry's right shoulder.

“Really?” Harry replied, his voice falsely cheerful and high, as though he was fascinated by their discussion. “Then, pray tell, which curse did they use on you yesterday?”

Severus deliberated. Truth or lie? Truth or a lie? But the look in Harry's eyes told him that Harry somehow already knew.

He cleared his throat again, the sound oddly abrasive in the still quiet of the study. 

“Wh-when I was summoned yesterday afternoon, I took a vial of a suppressant potion before I departed.”

“Huh,” said Harry, his voice still sounding forcedly cheery. “Did you also know that it's _illegal_ to block an Abeo's bond once it has been sensed?”

“Yes, but in this instance it was completely necessary for your safety,” insisted Severus, meeting Harry's eyes for the first time since they had begun talking.

Harry's right eye twitched dangerously. 

“And where, pray tell, did you get this suppressant? Surely any place that would sell such a thing should be reported.”

Severus hung his head, “I brewed it,” he whispered, feeling very much like a child who had betrayed his parent's trust.

Harry nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out the remaining two vials of Severus' potion. He flicked the vials in his hand and spun them between his fingers – if Severus hadn't been so miserable he would have been impressed by this display of agility. 

Harry looked at the vials, then at Severus, then at the vials again. And suddenly the facade of calm broke and there was a horrible, heart wrenching grimace of pain on Harry's face.

“What was so repugnant about me when I was a baby that you wanted to take this every fucking day instead of claiming me as yours?” A tear slid down Harry's right cheek and Severus' heart broke as he felt their bond open and pure dejection pour through. Apparently Harry couldn't focus enough to keep up his shields. He made to jump up and rush to Harry's side but his found that he couldn't move from the chair. Harry had immobilized him again.

“No! No Harry, no. Nothing was, is, the matter with _you_ , it was always _me_. I couldn't do that to you. I was still in service of the Dark Lord. I only went to Albus _after_ you were born because then I knew, I knew that I couldn't endanger my mate like that,” Severus fairly cried, pleading with Harry to understand.

Harry sniffled and then wiped a frustrated hand over his face. “This,” he brandished the vials at Severus, his voice loud, the hurt screaming in his face, “This _shit_ hurts me just to hold it! Just to hold it in my hand makes me want to puke! I would NEVER have done something like that to you or to anyone! Fine. Maybe I get why you did it when I was a baby ...” Before Severus could be relieved, Harry continued with vengeance, “But what about after!? What about after Voldemort fell? What about all those years I spent – I spent ...” Harry broke off and sobbed, whipping his head away from Severus' agonized gaze.

A wrenching, grinding feeling shuddered over the bond as Severus felt Harry's loneliness, his sense of betrayal and pain. He cringed under the feeling, his breath getting caught in his throat. It felt like a knife to his heart, it felt like ... rejection.

“No! God Harry, please no! I love you. Please, please believe me! I love you more than anything. Please,” he keened, “please don't do this. Please let me up.” Severus struggled against the forces holding him to his chair, rocking the piece of furniture violently back and forth as he strained to reach his mate. His vampire was shouting at the top of its, his, their lungs to _reassure and claim and love and please god no don't let mate reject me!_

The pain lessened a degree and Harry turned back to look at him.

“You were afraid. Afraid of Voldemort. Afraid of what your mate would be like. DON'T LIE!” He roared when Severus began to interrupt, and then fell silent, waiting.

Severus froze, swallowed and licked his lips. Even his vampire could tell that this, what he was going to say right now, was crucial to what happened next.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I was afraid of the Dark Lord having any power of my mate. Of touching or looking at or even _knowing about_ you. And then I was afraid that you would grow up and not accept a Death Eater for your mate, or even worse, that your parents would forbid our bonding. A vampire's bond is rooted in honour and dignity; if your parents had forbidden our bonding I would not have been able to sense you anymore. No wait, please,” he called as Harry began to speak, and then breathed deeply, relieved when Harry nodded for him to continue. 

“I didn't know it was _you_. All I could feel was that I had a mate. The moment that you were born I felt the pull and I made a horrible choice. I could have apparated straight to you, the call was so strong, but I was brewing for _him_ and I took the suppressant because I couldn't bear the idea that your family would reject me ... I am sorry. I have never been more sorry for anything in my life. Later, days, months, _years_ after you were born, when I couldn't feel the pull anymore, I searched for you, for any lingering trace ... You know that at least ... that ridiculous sweatshirt, a ball, that little comb, even a bottle that I found n the trash once that you had taken a drink from ... I _looked_ for you when I realized that life wasn't worth living without my mate ...” Severus broke off, praying that Harry could read the sincerity in his eyes, wishing that he could at least touch his mate to show him that he was loved.

Harry straightened and leaned back in his chair, regarding Severus with a speculative expression. He held up that vials.

“You are never going to take this _horse piss_ again. Promise me.”

Severus nodded once sharply, “Of course. But the next time the Dark Lord-”

“The next time Voldemort calls you we will have already figured something out. Together. You. And. I. Because that's what people who actually care about each other do. They talk. To. Each. Other. Get it?”

Harry had shifted so that he was sitting on the very edge of his chair, and punctuated each of his proclamations with a vicious jab of his forefinger. They were so close together that had Severus been able to move he could have easily scooped Harry into his lap _'where he belongs'_ added his vampire succinctly. 

“Yes. I swear I will not consume that potion again unless we discuss it thoroughly before hand. On my word.” It rankled with Severus' deeply rooted independence to give up that bit of control, that essential a decision to another, but he knew that it was worth it if Harry would just forgive him and trust him again.

They sat motionless as Harry tested the validity of Severus' promise, searching through the older man's mind for any sign of deceit or doubt. And after what felt like an eternity of waiting, Harry nodded and Severus found that he could once again move. 

_'To Mate, to mate, go to mate mate blood mate'_ insisted his vampire loudly, and Severus crept forward tentatively, waiting to see if Harry would protest, but he didn't and in seconds Severus found himself back in his chair with his arms and lap full of shaking, crying, clinging teenager.

“Don't ever do that to me again,” whispered Harry fiercely as he clung to Severus' neck and pressed desperate kisses to the other man's stubbly jaw.

“No, never again,” replied Severus, his arms clasped just as tightly around Harry's back, and he stroked one hand soothingly through Harry's wild locks when he felt hot tears splashing down onto his neck, “Never again.”

 

_________________________________________________

So I hope that you all enjoyed it! Big, huge thanks to my beta, jigginbatty, for all of her work! And thank you to all of the wonderful people who have reviewed this story ...   
We're at 169 reviews (which is amazing!) and so I owe MCjaybird a request. If you are still reading MCjaybird, please feel free to e-mail me a reasonable request at aaron.karre@gmail.com and I'll incorporate it into a coming chapter ....  
If MCjaybird has not replied over the course of the next month, the request will go to the next person ...

Now, an explanation. I am sorry that it took me so long to update; no I am not abondoning this fic. My grandfather passed away this summer and quite honestly, I've had more important things to do than post chapters ...  
However, now that I am back in this country, I should be able to resume a more reasonable posting rate.

Thanks to all who stuck with the story,  
Until next week,  
Steppenwolf


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